


Crossroads

by manamune



Series: Convergence [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Digital Art, Dubious Consent, M/M, Murder Mystery, Panic Attacks, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-19
Updated: 2017-01-02
Packaged: 2018-07-25 07:52:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 106,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7524547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manamune/pseuds/manamune
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Keith crashed his Lion into a Galra warship in order to stop it from destroying a solar system, and more importantly, his friends, he was fully prepared to die for it.</p><p>What he didn’t prepare for was to wake up in an alternate universe where he and Lance were dating.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some things to note before reading (27/11/2017):
> 
> This fic was planned out and written right after Season 1 aired, well before their ages and a lot of information about the world was revealed, so there are quite a bit of discrepancies between this fic and what we know as canon now. 
> 
> As per the tags, this fic contains dubious consent (nothing beyond kissing, and only in the first few chapters) and mentions of suicide (no scenes contain it graphically, it's only spoken about and speculated). There are also multiple scenes where a character has panic attacks. Please be careful when reading.
> 
> Most of the links in the author's notes don't work anymore since I have since changed usernames on social media, save for the ones in the epilogue which I've updated. Notably: all of the tumblr links in this fic go to other people's blogs now, so please don't message them, lol.
> 
> I hope you enjoy the story!
> 
> The art at the beginning of this chapter was made by [rambamboozled](http://rambamboozled.tumblr.com)! The art at the end of chapter 18 was made by [@mangotcha](http://twitter.com/mangotcha)! Thank you very much for contributing!

“On your left, Lance!”

Hunk’s voice came patchy through the intercom system. Keith ducked underneath the parts of a destroyed ship that were floating through space, sparks flying wildly overhead of him as more and more Galra ships charged their beams. They missed only by a fraction. Space was huge, but when they were cramped and cornered by the enemy, there were only so many directions they could turn to.

Keith swerved out of the way of a strike of something sharp and purple—some kind of lightning-charged weapon that would have undoubtedly sliced him straight in half. He kept his grip on his control stick as tight as possible, maybe even a little too tight. If he didn’t, he would be shaking.

“Thanks, man. Holy shit.”

Lance sounded stressed, which wasn’t unusual when they were fighting. But there was also usually excitement. Lance’s passion for justice and flying that drove him to become a pilot in the first place was nowhere to be found, and that was far more worrying. They wouldn’t win if they lost their resolve. Keith saw Lance fly awkwardly in between two beams, a criss-cross that even Keith wasn’t sure he would have been able to do.

“Holy shit,” Lance repeated, surprised just as much as Keith was. He was choked up and out of breath.

Keith swallowed, trying to steady his vision and gather his thoughts. They couldn’t form Voltron, not with so many ships surrounding them with their cannons already charged. They’d be dead before they even finished it. Maybe if they were a better team they’d stand a chance, but that wasn't them, as much as they would've liked to have said it was. They weren't perfect.

He blinked only for a moment, trying to readjust his hold on the controls. Why were his hands so clammy?

“There’s another wave incoming. Hunk, move to the rear. Try not to take any shots, but we need back side protection.”

The fact that Lance didn’t even snicker at _back side protection_ made Keith feel a little sick.

Keith had known Shiro long enough to be able to tell when he was concerned. Even more so than before he had disappeared, Shiro was good at controlling his emotions. His hold over both his temper and his anxiety was impressive at the least, and almost inhuman at best. But the slight shake in his voice told Keith more than enough. Shiro was nervous.

“On it,” Hunk called out, moving through the array of ships to the back of their formation. His Lion looked small next to the sheer amount of Galra ships that were turned towards them. It looked endless, like an ocean of terror, built from Keith's most wildest nightmares.

The beeping of his Lion startled him, telling him that his pistols were ready. They wouldn’t be extraordinarily effective against the heavily-armored Galra ships, but he wasn’t able to get close enough to slash them. He tore through a group of lesser ships, gritting his teeth as the parts scattered into the dead of space.

“Um, guys,” Pidge whispered. “I think that’s a little more than just another wave.”

“What do you mean—” Keith started, turning his Lion to look at what was incoming. The words died in his throat.

Because there wasn’t just dozens of ships in front of them. There were _hundreds,_ lead by the biggest one Keith had ever seen.

“Why the hell do they have so many guys here?! All just to try and scare us off?!” Lance yelled. No one answered him. No one had an answer to give.

The ships stopped in front of them, their fronts glowing as their cannons charged. Keith felt frozen in place, even as he maneuvered his ship to avoid the incoming blasts. His hands were working to move out of the way, but his mind felt stilted, like someone had pressed pause on his thoughts to replace them with carnal fear.

“I don’t think they’re here just to scare us off,” Pidge said. “I think they’re—they’re trying to do something else.”

“We’ll just have to take them all down,” Shiro grit out, but it was meaningless. They were so heavily outmatched the idea was laughable. “Or find a way out of here.”

“Hah, hah,” Hunk laughed lifelessly. “I don’t think either of those things are happening, Shiro!”

“I’m going to have to agree with that one,” Pidge sighed, shooting through another line of ships.

“Giving up is not an option,” Shiro said. “Keep firing!”

It didn’t make sense. Why were there so many ships there? Even if they did form Voltron, it didn’t warrant that many. The Galra weren’t that underconfident in their abilities. Unless—

His eyebrows furrowed. Driving his Lion through the fray, he looked over the array of ships. He could see some of them talking through the helms of their ships. One pointed out to the dead mass of space, and Keith gasped.

“They’re not aiming for us, they’re aiming for the planets!”

Lance made a pained noise through the receiver. It probably wasn’t even intentional. “Fuck us.”

Keith’s eyes narrowed, watching as the ships began to turn themselves around. A single Galra fleet wouldn’t have enough sheer firepower to blast an entire solar system. But a dozen was more than enough.

“Take out as many as you can! They aren’t focused on us!” Shiro ordered.

Hunk barreled into a ship directly in front of him, his Lion’s claws slicing through the alien metal. But even with the others shooting as fast as they could, the fleet never seemed to end.

They weren’t even shooting at him anymore, but the terror he felt ran right down to his bones. Allura and Coran were still in that direction, along with everything they had ever loved and cared for. He was not going to let that die. Not just for five of their lives, which would be gone moments after if they didn't figure out a way to escape without being cornered again.

He had an idea.

“Keith, what the hell! Fight!” Lance screamed.

“Keep them distracted,” Keith said, ignoring Lance’s sharp command.

He weaved through the small spaces between each ship. They ignored him, just as he had expected, instead focusing on the small twinkles of light in far-off space.

 _God,_ he couldn’t stop his hands from quivering. _Get it together, Keith._

“Keith.” Pidge sounded out of breath. “What are you _doing_?”

Keith began to charge his flamethrower. He drummed his fingers impatiently on his control stick. Every second felt like agony.

“Keith?” Shiro prompted.

“Just distract them!”

His Lion purred in his head approvingly, a deep noise that reverted in his brain, trying to calm his nerves. He stroked over the base of the control table, resisting the urge to squeeze his eyes shut and hide himself away.

“I don’t understand--” Shiro said, before cutting off, pulling back sharply to avoid crashing into a ship.

“Let’s do this,” he whispered to his Lion.

He could see the beginnings of the Galra ships’ charges reaching completion. It manifested as a murky purple light at the front of their ships, crackling with heat and electricity.

“Guys.” Keith inhaled slowly. “Get back.”

“What?” Hunk asked.

“I said get _back_!”

His flamethrower signaled itself ready just as the first Galra ship set off its beam towards the solar system.

“Move back!” Shiro said. “Keith, what are you--”

Setting off the flamethrower, his Lion roared as he slammed into the nearest ship.

She wasn’t built for crashing into things, but she took it like a champ. Keith would’ve been proud if he hadn’t felt sick to his stomach. The beam of the Galra ship touched the flamethrower from his Lion and it imploded instantly, blinding him, blocking his vision from having to see her fall apart.

His Lion, the damn bastard, did one last glorious thing to save him by ejecting him wildly into space.

Keith would’ve liked to have said that time slowed down for him as he was sent hurtling into the great unknown. That he had deep, introspective thoughts about what he was truly doing; about the millions of people he was saving and more importantly, his friends.

None of those things were even remotely true.

“Keith?!”

“What the fuck—”

“He’s outside the Lion!”

“It’s going to blow up—!”

“ _Someone catch him!_ ”

Their voices became faint as he was sent flying through space, forced to watch as his Lion blew up.

The good thing was that it was just the sheer pressure acting inside the container which sent her into pieces. If they could recover all of them, or even most, then putting her back together would be easy, even if she’d look a little more charred on the outside. But he could feel her tearing apart if she was his own body, a pain that rang throughout his entire being.

He tried to breathe instinctively, only to be met with the crushing feeling of _nothing_ in the space around him.

He saw Lance and Pidge both swerve towards him as Hunk and Shiro flew out of the blast range, but when he blinked, his eyes stayed closed.

Beyond them, the Galra ships blew up like dominoes, the blast from his Lion and other ships flying through their cannons and exploding them from the inside out.

It was only after he had seen his friends’ panicked faces, horrified but alive, lit up by the bright lights and screams of the Galra behind them, that he was okay with it.

The cold crept over his body until he stopped breathing.

*******

The first thing Keith expected to see when he woke up was definitely not Lance crying.

“Um,” he said hoarsely, trying to adjust his eyes to the light. He blinked a few times. His eyelids felt heavy and clammy and the bright lights burned overhead, his vision blurring.

Lance’s whole face shifted from complete despair to nothing short of a kid in a candy store when he spoke, eyes huge and red from crying, his mouth open in shock. “K—Keith? He—Guys, he’s awake!”

Someone’s hand—Lance’s?—grabbed his shoulders, helping him sit up. His brain felt muddled and slow, as if it was working slow motion. He tried to take a deep breath, but there was an invisible pressure in his lungs. He choked.

“Hey, hey,” Lance said softly, running his hand over Keith’s shoulder in a way that he had never touched Keith before. “Don’t push yourself.”

Suddenly, his body was being tugged forward against a broad, warm chest. He would recognize those arms anywhere and he relaxed just a fraction into them. “Keith,” Shiro whispered against his ear. “Don’t scare us like that again.”

Shiro ruffled his hair and pulled back to look him in the eyes. He smiled, but his eyes looked devastated and tired, as if he hadn't slept in days or more. Keith tried to look around, frantic, but the others were blocking his view. How long had he been asleep?

He was tugged to the side so Hunk could hug him as well. The big guy was a blubbering mess, sniffling back tears and shaking like a leaf. It felt more like he was the one comforting Hunk, but it was heartwarming to know that he had missed him that much. His own eyes watered and he gently patted Hunk's back.

He hadn’t even considered surviving, let alone that they’d worry over him that much. He felt a twinge of guilt tug at his heart, even if his actions had saved them all.

Pidge seemed even smaller than usual somehow, tucking her face underneath Keith’s and giving him a long, gentle embrace.

“Just so you know, if you do anything like that again, you’re never going to be able to leave your dorm again.”

Keith laughed, strained but genuine. “I know,” he mumbled, smiling weakly.

After a moment, it fell.

 _Dorm_?

Lance wrapped his arm over Keith’s shoulder, forcing Keith to lean against his chest. He heard Hunk and Lance talking over his head, but the words became a buzz in the back of his mind as he looked around the room.

This was not their ship. This wasn’t one of their Lions.

This was Earth.

“Holy shit,” Keith whispered.

“What?” Lance asked quickly, turning his head so he was in the middle of Keith’s vision. Keith tried to shift away but Lance’s hold was tight, keeping him in.

“I—” Keith started, but the words seemed to die in his throat as he took in the sight before him.

Shiro was in his Garrison uniform. As if he’d just gotten off a student mission. The room was clean and clinical. Keith had been there a dozen times before for medical examinations.

Before, as in, over two fucking _years_ ago.

He tried to steady his breathing again, but the pressure on his chest only seemed to get bigger. Hunk said something about the monitor on the bedside going out of control and Lance shook his shoulder lightly, his voice practically a squeak.

“Keith? What’s wrong?”

Keith shook his head, looking over at Shiro.

The scar was gone.

“Keith?” Shiro’s eyebrows furrowed. It was all wrong. There was no white in Shiro’s hair anymore. It wasn't just that the scar over his nose was missing; he looked younger in every way. He looked his age for once, like Keith remembered him from when they were teenagers.

“I, I think I need a moment,” Keith whispered, his whole face suddenly hurting as if he was about to pass out again.

“Lance, give him some space. He’s having trouble breathing,” Pidge said.

Lance bit down on his lower lip, then nodded, releasing Keith. He wanted to curl up into a little ball, but the way they were all looking at him—What were they even expecting? Where the hell was he?

This must’ve been the afterlife. A paradise that his subconscious created of the happiest part of his life; the Garrison, with Shiro, with his friends added.

Lance couldn’t seem to keep his hands off him, it seemed, even with Pidge’s urging. He rubbed Keith’s back, and four pairs of eyes were fixed on him so intensely it felt like he was drowning.

No. That couldn’t be right. If it was truly a world built by his subconscious, Allura and Coran would’ve been there as well. And it felt real. This world was tangible. He could feel the pulse of whatever medicine he had been given in his body, ebbing away most of his pain. Hell, even the anxiety in the room was palpable, between Lance’s loud, heavy breathing and Hunk playing with the drawstring on his pants to distract himself.

“Do you want us to leave you guys alone?” Shiro asked gently.

Keith blinked. Why the hell would he want to be alone? If they really had been waiting as long as he thought they had for him to wake up, why would he want to be alone with _Lance,_ of all people? He would probably give him a nagging into the next century.

“If it’s okay with Keith,” Lance brushed his fingers over the nape of Keith’s neck. Keith shivered.

The other three looked at him expectantly.

His best chance at getting answers was from Shiro or Pidge. Lance was probably the worst person. Hot-headed, emotional, naively empathetic. Clearly, his situation in this world was vastly different from his one back home if they thought leaving him with Lance was a good idea.

“I—I don’t really want to be alone right now,” he admitted.

“That’s okay.” Shiro gave him another half-smile. “Pidge, Hunk, you guys go and get food and another batch of medicine for Keith. I need to go tell the advisor that he’s awake. It’ll only be for a few moments.”

 _Fuck,_ Keith’s nose scrunched up. Why did Shiro even _ask_ if he was just going to leave anyway?

Lance rolled his eyes a little and shooed them all off.

Once Pidge shut the door behind her, Lance instantly put his hands over Keith’s cheeks. Keith’s eyes widened, and again, he felt the wind get knocked out of him.

“Keith,” he whispered. “You don’t need to—fuck, You don’t need to act strong right now, I promise. We thought you were going to die.” The pink tinge around his eyes ran deep. Keith wondered how long Lance had been sitting by his bedside crying. “I thought you were going to die, and I—I thought I was going to lose you, and—”

Not knowing what to do, Keith shifted his arm around the wires that were attached to the monitor by his bed, patting one of Lance’s arms. Lance’s hands were big and soft and most alarmingly, uncalloused. He hadn’t been piloting any ships, apparently.

“I’m awake now,” he muttered. “Don’t worry over it anymore.”

Lance snorted, screwing his eyes shut for a moment. A few tears leaked out, dropping down his cheeks and onto Keith’s bedsheets. “I don’t know what I—I would do without you. Don’t you dare ever do that again.”

And then Lance was kissing him.

Keith sputtered, his mouth moving against Lance’s, but no words were coming out because Lance was covering his lips with his own and they were _kissing_. Lance's eyes were shut and Keith watched him, his brain short circuiting, his ability to function rationally apparently lost out of sheer shock. Keith struggled his hands against Lance's chest until he instinctively shoved him away, fighting fiercely against the weight pressing down on his chest again. For the second time in what was hours for him, he thought he might've almost died from panic.

It threatened to cave him in, making him dizzy with confusion. Lance's alarm was written all over his face, as if he hadn't imagined Keith would push him away. He hastily grabbed a glass of water sitting on the bedside table. His hand was shaking uncontrollably, the water sloshing inside the cup and threatening to spill over the edge from how quick he moved to try and pass it to Keith.

“Oh my god, Keith, I’m sorry, I—Fuck, I didn’t think, I’m sorry,” Lance stuttered, shoving the glass into Keith’s hand. When their fingers brushed, Keith jerked away. Some of the water splashed onto the floor. “You need to rest. I’m sorry.”

Keith tried to sip the water, to give himself time to collect himself, but even the liquid going down his throat seemed to choke him despite how smooth it was.

Now, the crying, the intense elation at Keith being alive—it all made sense.

In this world, Lance and him were together.

And if that wasn’t the most surprising thing this world had to offer, then Keith was completely, absolutely fucked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading! expect at least semi-frequent updates. chapters will be on the shorter side so i can pump them out more easily, and i have a lot of free time to write right now!
> 
> pleaseeee comment, kudos, bookmark, subscribe, etc if you enjoyed the fic! it would mean the world for me to hear what you have to say! <3
> 
> talk to me on [tumblr](http://forgive.tumblr.com) and [twitter](http://twitter.com/ritsuizus)!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for reference:
> 
> Shiro is Japanese-Canadian, Keith is Japanese-Korean.

Keith desperately tried to ignore how uncomfortable the silence was as the others sat down in a circle around his bed.

They were clearly expecting something from him. Either to speak up about why he did what he did—and he still had no idea _what_ it was exactly that he did—or to talk about why Lance looked like had been run over by a truck when they had gotten back.

“So,” Shiro started, clearing his throat. He had changed out of his uniform and into regular clothing: a button-up shirt and jeans. He hadn’t seen Shiro in everyday clothing in what felt like forever. And, with his arms bare, Keith could see clearly two human arms. The sheer discomfort of it hit him full force when Shiro spoke, demanding his attention.

He looked between Lance and Keith again, then reached out for Keith’s hand. Like Lance’s hand, Shiro’s was uncalloused. It was more familiar to him; after all, he had spent years holding onto it before he had even met Lance, but it was still odd. It didn’t have the rough safety that his Shiro’s did. There were no scars or ridges on his palm that told Keith _we’re strong, we’ll be okay._

… His Shiro? Were his friends _his_ now?

Keith stared back at him, resisting the urge to nibble on his lip. He didn’t need them to know his anxious he was.

“You have a psychological evaluation next week. It may be pushed back if you don’t feel well. No simulations or runs outside for at least a month, even if the evaluation comes back with good results.” Hunk’s nose scrunched up and he crossed his arms, looking squarely on the floor. Lance fake-coughed. “So you should take this time to relax.”

A psychological evaluation. Keith wasn’t worried about it. It was standard procedure after any extended medbay stay, but it only further confirmed his suspicions that he had been there for at least a few days, if not weeks.

“Okay,” Keith answered, trying to sound normal.

Shiro rubbed his thumb over Keith’s palm, then carefully extracted his hand away after what felt like forever.

The room lapsed into silence again. _Well, that didn’t last long,_ Keith thought. So much for the warm welcome he had been given just an hour earlier.

The quiet meant, at least, that he could take a good, long look at each of them without it being awkward.

They all definitely looked younger, and Keith hadn’t seen himself in a mirror yet to confirm, but he’d expect to see him with a lot less grey hairs. But whether he was in the past, or if it was some kind of parallel universe in which they all attended the Academy at the same time, and know each other, and were apparently friends, he didn’t know.

It would make sense either way. Being in an intergalactic war had taken its toll on all of them, both physically and mentally, to look far older than they actually were.

He couldn’t decide which option was stranger. Both of them, combined with the idea that apparently Lance thought they were dating, made him feel more than just a _little_ queasy.

It wasn’t that Lance was disgusting. Keith liked to tease him, but he didn’t even actually remotely dislike Lance. Lance was his friend, and would be one of the only people Keith would date if he was forced to.

But Keith had never been one for romance. If he were to blend in, he had to focus his time on learning how to be Keith for three others, let alone Lance. Even if dating Lance was the weirdest thing he had discovered so far, he didn’t doubt there was more.

“Is anyone else finding this super uncomfortable? Because this is super uncomfortable,” Lance said.

“Lance,” Pidge snapped, and she brought her palm to her forehead, sighing. “Keith wanted silence. He probably has a headache from you yapping his ear off while we were gone.”

Lance snorted, because that was the exact opposite of what had happened. The more accurate version would have been _he probably has a headache because you tried to kiss him and he started to choke_.

“I’m just saying we should catch him up on the current events. You know, lighten the mood. It’s dreary as hell in here.”

“Oh! I’ll go first. I figured out how to grow tomatoes in freezing cold temperatures,” Hunk spoke up. “Does that count?”

Keith looked down at his lap, smiling. Well, at least _some_ things were the same. A wave of relief washed over him.

“Fascinating,” Pidge said.

“It is pretty cool,” Keith admitted, and Hunk glowed. They didn’t have much time for pet projects back at home, but Hunk had always found spare time to cook and garden.

“Well, I passed my flight simulator. So hah! Take that, tomatoes.” Lance pouted, raising his voice.

“You aren’t a pilot yet?” Keith asked, then realized he probably should _not_ have said that. Both for the sake of Lance’s fragile pride and the fact that it was already pretty clear that he wasn’t, considering what he had _just_ said.

Keith really did need to relax, else he’d start spouting off more stupid questions. They were smart enough to question it if they did catch on.

“Come on! You weren’t out for that long.”

The others all laughed and Keith followed, but he couldn’t stop the awful feeling in his stomach. Lance wasn’t even a goddamn pilot yet. They had to be like 16. Keith was a kid again.

He’d wished for it a thousand times, but not like this.

“I believe in you, Lance,” Pidge soothed him. Lance sniffled and held his hand to his chest.

“Thanks, Pidge. I’m glad I can trust some people around here!”

Lance rubbed his hand over Keith’s thigh—over the sheets, thankfully, but the gesture was still just as strange as all the other times Lance had touched him.

He was used to Lance touching him. Hugs, shoulder pats, even the occasional hair ruffle. Kissing and thigh-rubbing were not on that list, however.

The mood lightened significantly after that. Keith barely had to speak; the others seemed content to talk amongst themselves and list out all the things that Keith had missed. None of the current events were particularly interesting, nor did they give insight into what had happened to him. Mostly, he was morbidly fascinated by how different things were.

He learned that Shiro and another Academy recruit had gone on a scouting mission two days ago and had only returned that morning, which was why Shiro had been in his Garrison uniform earlier. Much to Keith’s shock, Pidge made a joke about Shiro getting lost in space. Keith almost choked, only managing to cover it up by downing an entire glass of water. Lance told him, very elaborately, how many people he had defended Keith’s honor from. Apparently him ending up in the medbay was a huge deal and a topic of much discussion at the Academy.

All in all, the points only drove home the fact that this world was so far from his own that he wasn’t even sure if he could begin to consider these people his friends.

Slowly, it turned dark outside, and the voice of the Academy’s head that Keith hadn’t heard since he was a child sounded over the intercom: _Curfew is now in session. Please return to your dormitories and rooms or face punishment._

Pidge yawned, stretching out from head to toe before hopping off her seat. “I’m beat.” She patted Keith’s shoulder. “I’ll come tomorrow too. I’ll bring you some books, since I have a feeling you’ll get tired of Lance’s stories real fast.”

“Hey!” Lance protested. Pidge just shook her head.

Hunk leaned over to hug him again before he left. “Don’t worry, I’ll get you some real food tomorrow.” Keith smiled at him, not knowing what else to say, and waved at them as they exited the room.

The mood shifted back to nothing short of awkward again when it was just him, Lance, and Shiro.

Shiro looked between them, quietly, as he had been since he had spoken up earlier, but Keith had the innate feeling that the gears in Shiro’s mind were turning faster and faster the longer him and Lance went without speaking.

“Um,” Lance curled his fingers over Keith’s waist, but his fingers shifted fitfully, as if he couldn’t decide whether it was okay or not. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning. I’ll try and come as early as possible, I guess. If you want.”

The touch felt hot on his skin, even over his shirt. “That sounds fine,” Keith nodded. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

Lance nodded back. Then, very slowly, he leaned forward until their lips were touching—it was more than enough time for Keith to duck out of the way if he wanted to, but with Shiro watching them like a hawk, he felt like he didn’t exactly have a choice there.

The kiss was short and sweet. Barely a kiss, really. It didn’t feel like the one before, or any kiss that he imagined Lance might give. After staring at him for another few seconds, Lance pulled back. “See you, Shiro. Keith.”

He shut the door quietly behind him.

“And then there were two,” Shiro said to the air in between them.

Keith tried to control his breathing as best as he could. In, out, in out, to a steady beat. He didn’t expect this Shiro to be a mastermind at analyzing people, but he knew from watching the others that it was painfully obvious when someone was nervous. “Skipping curfew, then?”

“I’m a senior,” Shiro crossed his arms. “You know that I don’t have to follow it.”

Keith had never made it to being a senior at the Academy, and he didn’t care enough about anyone but Shiro to notice. “Oh.”

Shiro leaned forward, eyes searching Keith’s face for something that clearly wasn’t there.

“Are you okay?” he asked, in Japanese, and the sudden change almost gave Keith whiplash.

“... What?”

“Don’t tell me you forgot how to speak Japanese too.”

“I—No, that’s not it,” he switched quickly to it as well. It felt foreign on his tongue, even though he had spoken it as a kid almost every day. He and his Shiro didn’t speak it on their ship. It’d have been impolite to the others. They were a team, and even if they weren’t perfect, speaking the same language was a good place to start. “I was just surprised.”

“We usually speak it when we’re alone.”

Keith brought his hand up to his face, pinching his nose. He could feel a migraine coming on. “Well, I didn’t remember, okay?”

Shiro’s face softened. “I didn’t mean to make it sound like I was angry or upset, or something. I just… if you're forgetting things, you need to tell us. The doctor said you might have some memory loss when you woke up, because of the shock and all. But forgetting things like languages would be a lot worse than just forgetting recent events, and—”

Keith cut Shiro off. “I’m fine, Shiro. My brain is just muddled. Anyways, I obviously remember now, so stop worrying.”

It made sense that they’d speak in their own languages. They weren’t a team in this world. There was no life-or-death situation where yelling out a command in the wrong language would lead to them pummeling into space.

The words _pummeling into space_ made him remember something he didn’t want to think about.

“—Keith? Are you okay?”

Keith let go of his nose, rubbing his palms over his face. “Yeah, just. Headache. Sorry.”

Shiro reached out and brushed his hand over the top of Keith’s head. It was such an achingly familiar gesture, one that Shiro did all the time on their ship, but the way Shiro was speaking was so different, too, that he didn’t know whether to allow himself to feel relieved.

“We were all really worried about you. Lance especially, obviously.” Shiro chuckled. “I’m serious when we say don’t do that again. Especially Pidge, she’ll probably murder you before you even have a chance to murder yourself. I know you’re smarter than that.”

“I don’t doubt that that's true.”

Shiro brushed his thumb over Keith’s forehead. Keith felt like a child again under his warm gaze. Probably because he was a child. But then again, so was Shiro, now. “I’ll get going. You need to sleep. The meds will wear off soon and they’re going to lower your dosage tomorrow, so you’ll feel far more pain then.”

“I don’t know if I can sleep,” Keith admitted. He wasn’t worried about speaking up; it seemed to fit into the narrative of whatever he had done, and it was the truth. No matter how much time had passed in this world since he got hurt, it felt like only hours ago he had been flying through space with them, fighting Galra ships and watching his Lion shatter.

That, and the fact that he was literally in a different universe, or at least it seemed like it, meant that staring at the ceiling and reflecting on the hundreds of different and equally awfully circumstances he was in was far more likely than him falling asleep easily.

“Just rest, then.”

Keith moved out of Shiro’s grasp. Shiro dropped his hand to his side, sighing, but he didn’t have the disappointed kicked puppy look that Lance had earlier, which Keith was grateful for.

“I’ll try.”

Shiro smiled at him and then stood up, moving all the chairs back to their places along the wall.

“Don’t overthink things. That’s what got you into this mess.” He switched smoothly back to English. “I’ll come visit tomorrow. Night, Keith.”

Keith laid back onto the bed, and _god_ , if only Shiro knew how true those words were.

He tried to sleep—he really did. He knew there was no point in staying awake and analyzing his situation without any concrete information, and it wasn’t like he could stand up and look around on his own.

And, besides, it’s what his friends would have wanted. For him to be healthy. He wanted to do that for them, since in his world, he was probably dead now.

He swallowed. The thought scared him him more than he’d like to admit. He had thought he was okay with dying, even if it wasn’t a one-hundred percent chance. He didn’t want to, but for them, he was fine with it. No use crying over spilled milk, especially in the irreversible afterlife. But now that he was alive and in a world where everything was okay, he didn’t know if that was true.

When he shut his eyes, he heard his Lion’s pained, triumphant roar echoing in his head. He wondered if they had been able to salvage her. While Keith was at least somewhat disposable, she wasn’t. He trusted Allura to recover her, though. If there was one thing Allura understood more than anyone, it was the necessity to form Voltron, at all costs, whether Keith was the one piloting it or not.

It took hours of him shifting and turning before he fell asleep trying, and failing, not to think about Lance and Pidge’s face as they tried to grab him as he floated through the massive mass of space.

He didn’t dream that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am so overwhelmed by the good reception to the first chapter! thank you so much to everyone who made a comment, kudos'd, bookmarked, etc!
> 
> i have so many ideas for this fic and i hope you guys enjoy it as much as i enjoy writing it!
> 
> next chapter: lance and keith talk and then some.
> 
> as always, please comment, kudos, bookmark, etc if you enjoyed the fic! it means the world to me!
> 
> talk to me on [tumblr](http://koizumi.tumblr.com) and [twitter](http://twitter.com/tsukaleoluvr69)!


	3. Chapter 3

“Up and at ‘em, sunshine!”

Keith heard Lance pull back the curtains and the room was flooded with bright light, piercing his eyes underneath their lids and burning his vision. His body felt like he’d become roadkill; even just turning over made his bones ache and his muscles scream in agony.

“Shut it, Lance,” Keith mumbled into the bed. It was so much fluffier than what he was used to that it was almost distressing. Who even needed five blankets anyways?

“Nope, not today.” Lance bounced on his bed, tangling up the wires that Keith had pulled off overnight. “I brought you some food. From Hunk, of course. Not the cafeteria. I’m not evil.”

Keith buried his face against his pillow and tried to pull up his sheets to block out the noise of Lance talking, but Lance tugged it back from him harshly.

“Keith, you need to eat. I’m serious. I’ll force-feed you if I have to.”

Taking a long, deep breath to get his patience in order, he opened his eyes bit by bit until the light no longer hurt. Earth was brighter and warmer than space. Even the feeling of the air was different from the one in their ship. It was cleaner, helping to ease his tightly-wound lungs.

“Fine,” he muttered. Lance gave a cheer and then scurried off to the other side of the room.

Nothing had changed while he was asleep—which was curious, considering he had pulled himself off from the monitor overnight. He’d be slightly alarmed if no one had bothered to check on him the whole time he had been asleep.

“Is this the critical care unit?” he asked.

Lance jumped a little and looked over his shoulder, seemingly surprised that Keith was talking to him without Lance initiating things first. Well, they _were_ supposed to be dating. It wasn’t that shocking.

“No.” Lance turned and brought over the promised tray of food. It smelled delicious. Clearly, fresh ingredients and sub-zero tomatoes did wonders. “You were there, though, until three days ago. Your vitals were… really low.”

Lance set the tray aside on his bedside table and then helped prop Keith up against the headboard of his bed, keeping him comfortable with a pillow tucked behind his back. He adjusted the tray meticulously on Keith’s lap until it was safe and secure. It was nothing short of a five-course meal, at least for the Academy. Juice, an omelette done in Keith’s favourite style, toast, a muffin. He would have to thank Hunk later.

“I see.”

Lance sat down on the edge of the bed, lapsing into silence. His eyes never moved from Keith.

He would have to start getting used to them staring at him nonstop. But Lance’s gaze was different from the others. If Keith had any doubts about whether he and Lance were supposedly dating last night, the look Lance gave him while he ate was more than enough to confirm it.

He ate his food unhurriedly. The longer he took, the less awkward conversations he and Lance had to have.

He knew he had hurt Lance’s feelings last night. He didn’t understand—he couldn’t. Keith had never dated anyone, let alone someone who had apparently ended up in a critical care unit. It was probably hard for Lance to be rejected right after he had woken up. Since he had only been transferred from the critical care three days ago, that meant he had probably spent at least a week in it. A week and a half of Lance undoubtedly sobbing by his bedside.

But he didn’t know what to do. He didn’t want to date Lance. He didn’t want to date anyone. He had wanted to be alive, and he was alive, but wanted to be alive with _his_ friends.

Once Keith started to pick at his muffin, Lance spoke up again.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “About last night, I mean. I know you were really tired and stuff. I was just really worried, and seeing you alive, I—I didn’t even think about how exhausted you were. Now isn’t the time for that. You need to recover, and—”

Keith shook his head. Lance's babbling must be been a constant through all universes. “Lance, it’s fine. I swear. I was just confused.”

“Confused?” Lance practically wheezed.

Okay, so that wasn’t a good word choice.

“Disoriented,” he clarified.

Lance bit his lip, running his hand over Keith’s leg. It seemed to be a habit of his, running his hands all over Keith. Or maybe that was just a couple thing.

“I was just really, really, really, really worried,” Lance whispered.

“I know. And… I’m sorry for worrying you.”

Lance closed his eyes. “No, you are _not_ allowed to feel guilty just because of me. Nope. Just eat.”

Keith sighed and let Lance continue to stroke his leg as he ate the rest of the muffin. If he couldn’t figure out how to speak to him, then letting Lance touch him over the sheets wouldn’t hurt.

“We’re still together, right?”

Keith blinked. “What?”

“Never mind! Forget it.”

He dropped the muffin wrapper and shoved the tray aside. “Lance…”

“No! I—I’m sorry, fuck. I thought I had cried it all out last night, but—”

“You cried more last night?”

“I did not say that!”

Keith scowled. “You just did!”

“Okay, maybe I cried a little.” Lance crossed his arms, finally looking away. “You seem... different, that’s all.”

Keith ran a hand through his hair. It felt greasy and gross. He probably looked disgusting. “I just woke up after being asleep for god-knows-how-long. It’s normal.”

“A month,” Lance mumbled.

“What?”

“You were asleep for a month.”

Keith tried to lean into Lance’s vision, but his ability to move was limited, and Lance seemed determined to only look at a single place on the wall.

“No one told me that.”  
  
“That’s why I’m telling you now!”

Lance shook his head, covering his face with his hands. Was he going to cry? Christ, no. Keith didn’t know if he could handle Lance crying alone. “Lance…”

“I’m sorry!” Lance sniveled. “But if I—if I did something wrong, will you just tell me?”

Keith winced, forcing himself to sit up straighter. He reached out and grabbed Lance’s shoulder, trying to bring him closer. Lance followed his touch without resistance, furiously wiping at his reddened face.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Keith promised. Lance kept shaking his head, not speaking aside from a litany of sniffles. “We’re still… together. Don’t cry. Please.”

Lance coughed into his arm, shakily lowering his arms. “Sorry,” he spoke quietly. Keith watched his chest struggle for air and he was instantly wracked with guilt.

Keith was at a loss for words.

This Lance was in love with him. And for whatever reason, this world’s Keith was in love with Lance too.

Keith decided in that moment that Lance could never, ever know that he wasn’t this world’s Keith. If Lance was already this broken at the mere thought of breaking up with him, then he couldn’t even imagine what would happen if he admitted he wasn’t, and had never been, in love with him.

And while this Lance wasn’t his friend, he didn’t want to be the cause of a lifetime of romantic trauma for him. Keith wasn’t cruel.

“It’s okay, Lance.” Keith ushered Lance closer. “Do you want to… hug?”

Lance choked a little and nodded quickly. He threw his arms around Keith, crushing him in an embrace, nuzzling his face against Keith’s shoulder. He felt Lance breathe in against his neck and then exhale, far more stable this time.

“I love you so much,” Lance whispered, so muted that Keith almost missed it.  
  
He didn’t say anything back, just held onto Lance a bit tighter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> to answer a common question: yes, there will be smut, but the explicitness of it is yet to be decided hence the M rating!
> 
> i hope everyone enjoyed this chapter! i love hearing everyone's theories! i can't confirm if any of them are correct or not, but let me know what you like, dislike, want to see more of, etc! 
> 
> this chapter was originally a lot longer but i decided to cut it into two parts. 
> 
> next chapter: lance does his best and a wild pidge appears.
> 
> as always, please leave a comment, kudos, bookmark, etc if you enjoyed! <3
> 
> talk to me on [tumblr](http://koizumi.tumblr.com) and [twitter](http://twitter.com/tsukaleoluvr69)!


	4. Chapter 4

“By the way, Pidge sent along a box of stuff with me. No idea what’s in it.”

“Books, maybe?”

Later, after Lance had recovered from crying on Keith's shoulder for an hour, he’d left for class. One of the nurses came by and re-attached his monitor, sternly telling him not to act out again while injecting him with roughly a thousand different drugs, none of which were the painkillers Keith wanted. The time alone had given Keith more than enough chances to clutter his mind with limitless impossible scenarios on how this happened and, more importantly, how to get out.

Then again, he had thought waking up in a different universe was impossible as well. _Never say never_ , the saying went.

Lance came back in the late afternoon, physically worse for wear but with a much brighter smile on his face. Keith wondered if he had class with one of his friends.

Good. He didn’t want the only thing Lance to think about was him. That would only make things worse for the both of them.

“Maybe,” Lance hummed, throwing a bag onto Keith’s bed. “Open it, I wanna see.”

“You’re so nosy,” Keith muttered, meticulously opening the bag in case there was something breakable inside it. “Doesn’t look like anything special. Sorry to disappoint.”  
  
“Seriously?!” Lance snagged it from him—so much for being careful—and peered inside. “Wow. That _is_ disappointingly boring and at the same time so not surprising.”

“That’s not a nice thing to say to your boyfriend.” Keith took it back and started laying out the items. Books, as promised, were at the top of the bag. Two were on alien theories and one was on the exploration of space. She must’ve noticed his intensity while listening to them talking about Shiro’s mission yesterday and passed it off as him being interested in exploration, which was fine with him.

There were two notes. One with Shiro's name written on the front, the other with Hunk's. He slipped them both under his pillow to read later while Lance distracted himself with the books.

The rest was just small gifts. Candies, whose names he had never heard of; an electronic device, which he had never seen; and some hair ties.

Keith was totally screwed if Lance expected him to know what any of these things were.

“You guys are all such nerds. I bet you guys could throw a science party in your free time and still find it fun. I should bring you some real reading material one da—Oh, sweet! Is that a warhead?”

Lance picked up one of the candies and popped it into his mouth, grinning.

“Uh, yes?” _Answer, Keith, don’t question!_

“I haven’t had one of these in forever! Where did she get them?” He made a face as he sucked on it, but that must’ve been part of the charm, because he looked elated.

“How would I know?”

“Rhetorical question,” Lance waved his hand to dismiss his words. “Nothing else special?”

Keith held up the electronic device. “Just this.”

“So nothing special,” Lance repeated. “No toiletries, either. Guess they expect me to grab them from our room.”

 _Our room_ , he said.

His and Lance’s room.

“I guess so,” Keith rasped.

“The bathroom’s so messy, though. I have no idea what you even use, there’s so much random crap in there.” Lance fell with his back on the bed, legs hanging over the edge. He looked like a spider splayed out over Keith’s legs. “Like, why do you have three types of cologne?”

At the very least, this world’s kept the same habits as he did. “They all have different purposes.”

“So high maintenance,” Lance said, turning to look at him, still smiling. “You know, I totally forgot why I was crying earlier.”

“Acknowledging it, now?”  
  
“A true man isn’t afraid to cry,” Lance said sagely. “I don’t even know what I was so worried about.”

Keith picked at the lint on his sheets absent-mindedly. “Stress?” he suggested.

Lance jerked up suddenly. “Must be it,” he said hastily, his mind onto another idea. “Can I kiss you?”

“Um.” Keith’s throat went dry. Blood rushed to his face rapidly. He could practically feel his temperature rising.

“Hunk said I should ask you before I do it. And I really want to do it right now, while you’re in a good mood. So…” Lance looked like a puppy. His eyes were huge, lips curled to try and stop himself from smiling to wide and looking far too hopeful. “Can I?”

Clearly, he wasn’t expecting rejection.

Stifling back a sigh, Keith nodded.

Lance’s whole expression lifted. He wasted no time throwing the gifts back into the bag and then putting his hands on Keith’s face, thumbs brushing over his temples, the corners of his eyes.

His body still ached like hell, but Lance’s hands were so warm on him that the pain seeped out of him like a wave.

Keith waited, holding his breath.

This kiss was far more similar to the first once Lance had given him. A little sloppy, wet, hot. Keith, frankly, had no idea how to kiss. Lance guided him smoothly though, sensing his nervousness, and Keith gladly let him do most of the work. One of Lance's hands dropped to his shoulder, brushing over his collarbone, and his body burned with embarrassment at how soft Lance's touch was. The contrast between his mouth, demanding on Keith's, and the hand on him was startling. Lance tried to coax him into kissing back, but in the sort of way that almost made Keith forget that this Lance was a stranger.

It wasn't as bad as he thought it would be. Lance didn’t push the kiss into foreign territory when Keith didn't respond, pulling back when they needed air. Keith gulped, his thoughts moving faster than the logical part of his brain.

He could do that. Kiss Lance sometimes, let him pat his head, listen to him when he told him he loved him. Keeping up the ruse would be far easier than having to explain what had happened. It was just kissing. As long as Lance didn’t expect anything more, he could work around it and feign disinterest in physical affection on his recovery.

Everything would be fine. He only had to pretend until he found a way out, after all. Which he would. He _had_ to.

Failure on either end was not an option.

When Lance grinned at him, Keith tried to smile back.

And if Lance noticed that his smile didn’t reach his eyes, he gave Keith the grace of not saying anything about it.

*****

_Keith,_

_Katie said that she was going to be seeing you today, so I’m writing this as fast as I can. Sorry if you can’t read my handwriting. I stayed up super late making you food and I gave it to Lance to bring to you so he better have brought it or else I’ll beat him up. (Just kidding.) (Maybe?)_

_Our awful physical sciences instructor sprung an awful assignment on us because apparently we’re all failing or something, so I can’t come by today, but I’ll bring you something extra special to make up for it tomorrow._

_You have no idea how relieved I am that you’re breathing right now, haha. Note to self, don’t write haha in a letter, it looks really weird._

_Love you! Hunk_

 

_Keith,_

_Sorry I couldn’t come by today. I was actually assigned to do some research for the case regarding your hospitalization, and they wanted me to write a report on the mission I just got back from too, which took up the rest of my day. Hopefully you’ll see this letter before tomorrow when I come by again._

_I wanted to apologize for making things awkward yesterday. Don’t act like it wasn’t, it totally was. Pidge and I looked over some books and papers on people who had similar injuries as you and amnesia and loss of memory is very normal. Just promise me you’ll tell us if it’s anything huge._

_It might be a bit cowardly to say this through a letter since it’s so personal, but I could tell something was different between you and Lance. I don’t know what happened between you guys when we stepped out, but go easy on him. I know he’s overbearing, but he basically lived at your bedside for a month. He skipped his first flying test to be with you. I know you love him, and I know he loves you. Let him ease some of your pain, physically or mentally._

_We all missed you. It was uncomfortable not having you around. Felt like something was missing. Don’t leave us again. None of us want that, including you, I think._

_Let me know if you need anything. It’ll suck to be cooped up until you’re discharged, but if there’s anything I or the others can do, we’re only a yell or call away._

_Shiro_

*****

Technology was fascinating.

No, really. It’d never been Keith’s area of expertise or even interest, really, but this device that Pidge had put in the bag for him was incredible. Why didn’t they have these in his world? The device could relay messages, track objects, stars, and everything in between in space, and connect to thousands of radio channels around the galaxy. His world had a primitive version of it, but he had never seen one that had quite the range as this one in such a compact form.

If this world was that more technologically advanced, perhaps that’s why Shiro hadn’t been sent on the Kerberos mission yet. There was no need for it because they already had far more knowledge than Keith’s world had.

He kind of wished that he really did belong in this universe. His life would've been so much easier.

Even the candies tasted different. They were intensely bitter and sour on his tongue, forcing his face to scrunch up. It was almost like an adrenaline rush to eat it, trying to hold back himself from blanching. What a bizarre urge. He could see why someone like Lance would like it.

He tapped on the screen of the electronic device. He could even see into the cameras in the public areas of the school, which was both cool and incredibly invasive.

He wondered if he could find Lance on it. The other boy had already told him, loudly, about how much work he was swamped with and how it was _unfair_ because _my boyfriend needs me_! It was sweet to imagine Lance dropping his entire future for Keith, but he doubted this world’s Keith would have allowed it, and he definitely wouldn’t either.

Especially after reading Shiro’s letter.

The Lance from Keith’s universe would never have skipped a flight test, let alone his first one, to be with Keith. Because according to Lance, they were rivals, but more importantly, the competitive streak between them allowed them both to grow. Keith certainly had, despite how much Lance seemed to think he was rejecting that fact, and he knew Lance had grown too.

“Knock, knock.”

Keith almost jumped at hearing Pidge’s voice. Almost, because he was practically strapped to the bed by them. “Hey.”

“You got my bag?” Pidge grinned, shutting the door and locking it behind her as she walked in. She pulled up a stool to his bedside, crossing her arms. “I was a little worried Lance would steal it.”

“I don’t think he would do that.”

“That’s why I said only a little worried,” Pidge snorted. She leaned over, trying to peek at the electronic device. “You watching him?”

Keith pursed his lips. “No, of course not. I’m not a creep.”

“I’m just saying, he would totally be watching you if he was in your position.”

“I’m well aware.” And despite having only known this Lance for two days, he was _very_ well aware. Lance wore his affection not only on his sleeve, but all over his face.

Pidge looked at him, and he could tell she was studying him. Trying to figure out what was happening between him and Lance, he expected. If Shiro had noticed, it was only a matter of time before Hunk and Pidge did as well.

“Did you guys fight?”

Keith sighed and put the electronic device into sleeping mode by swiping his index finger over the top. “We didn’t fight. Why do both you and Shiro seem to think that?”

Pidge shrugged. “He just seemed really… depressed, last night, for someone whose boyfriend had just woken up from a coma. And then when I saw him a few hours ago, he was acting unusual. As in, like nothing was wrong. But Lance would never get over something that quickly if it involved you.”

He frowned. Lance had seemed fine earlier, after he got his daily cry out on Keith’s shoulder and had been allowed to kiss Keith.

Sure, he hadn’t been exactly been the most active in the kiss, but he couldn’t imagine any universe where he tried to eat Lance’s face off while making out. He could easily chalk up the hesitation to being in incredible pain—which was very plainly not a lie.

“We didn’t fight,” he repeated. “We had a misunderstanding, but it's fixed now.”

Pidge raised an eyebrow. “Fine,” she leaned back, shaking her head. “Don’t tell me. Boys are such a nuisance.”

Keith raised an eyebrow right back at her.

“I didn’t come here to talk about Lance, though. Well, I did, but hopefully only for a maximum of a minute, because I have curfew soon. I wanted to tell you about a development in your medical case.”

“... My medical case?” Was it the same one Shiro was working on? It had only been a few hours since Shiro had written that letter, though. How could they have developments within hours?

“Not about your health, precisely. About the circumstances that lead you to… well, you know.” She waved her hand. “Being here.”

He nodded like knew, but truthfully, he still had no idea.

“They managed to narrow the crash to a single panel that malfunctioned, so now they can start looking at whether it was foul play or some kind of error. The cameras exploded though, and since Lance was in the front, they don’t have any eyewitnesses.”

“Wait—”

He had crashed.

And Lance had been _with_ him.

He might be 16 or 17 or whatever it was, but he had never crashed anything in his life. Not the simulator and unquestionably no real ships.

Pidge paused, waiting for him, and Keith bit his tongue, wracking his brain for an excuse that wasn’t _Why the fuck did no one tell me any of this before?_

“They think there might’ve been foul play?”

Pidge’s shoulders slumped just the slightest bit. “Maybe. We don’t know. If it was, then the only people it could’ve been would be you or Lance, and…” She kicked her feet back and forth. “... I think we both agree that Lance would never purposely sabotage you.”

“What are you implying?” he asked, slowly, because his on-the-spot question had just given him a lot more to think about.

“I don’t know, Keith. You tell me.”

He stared at her, silent, for what felt like hours. She met his gaze, unwavering, until he gulped and continued. “... Nevermind. How do you know what’s going on in the investigation?”

“Aside from Shiro, they hired my brother for it too. Their thing the other day must’ve been a success. Lucky for us, since now we get information from multiple sources.”

Keith set the electronic device on his bedside table and laid back, looking at the ceiling.

Lance had been with him. It was just getting worse and worse for him—the both of them, actually, since Keith had no idea how he was supposed to look Lance in the eyes knowing that not only did he loved him, but he had almost witnessed his death first-hand.

“What else do they know about the crash?”

“Not much else, yet. It took them a month just to salvage the important stuff. Honestly, it’s a miracle you’re alive at all. I have no idea how Lance didn’t end up in critical care with you.”

“Yeah,” Keith agreed.

Did their simultaneous near-death experiences have something to do with it? That was the most logical explanation, however—

Logic didn’t really have a place in parallel universes in the first place.

But, maybe, just maybe, if their deaths had somehow caused Keith to tumble into this universe, the other Keith was in his. And while he couldn’t imagine a lovestruck teenage version of him faring that well in an intergalactic war, it was better than straight up dying. It meant that they could possibly find a way to reverse it, in the same way that it had happened in the first place.

“Don’t tell anyone I told you all this, though. They’re supposed to be withholding information from you in case it affects the psychological evaluation they’re going to do, but fuck that.”

Keith laughed, turning back to her. “Thanks. I appreciate it.”

“You better.” Pidge stuck her tongue out at him and patted his leg. “I could get in serious trouble for telling you. Like… I could have my wifi speed reduced.”

“How tragic,” Keith commented.

“It really is, even if you’re trying to sass me.”

He tried to imagine Lance, the Lance who could quite literally _not_ do anything but look at him with pure love, sitting by his bedside for weeks, not knowing if the last words they exchanged would be right before his impending death. It wasn't a very nice image.

Pidge’s smile softened. “They’ll figure it out. And if they don’t, then we will. As long as you comply, there’s nothing stopping us from finding the truth.”

Except for the fact that Keith didn’t even know what the truth was.

He nodded, shutting his eyes.

“I’ll get going,” she said, hopping off the stool. She dragged it back to its place on the side and then came back over to him, wrapping her tiny arms around his shoulders to hug him. “I think we’ll all be visiting you tomorrow, unless more things come up.”

“Alright.” He lifted his arm a little off the bed to pat her back. “Thanks, Pidge.”

She pulled back, tilting her head. “Pidge?”

“Er,” Keith felt his face redden. Shiro called her Pidge, but then again, Hunk called her Katie, so maybe Pidge was just a Shiro thing, or—

She smirked. “Haven’t heard that from you in a while. Don’t sweat it, it’s fine.”

He nudged her, huffing. “I wasn’t sweating it. See you tomorrow, Pidge.”

She waved to him as she left. “Rest up, Keith.”

It was weird, how his mood instantly shifted once he was alone again.

It was like being around them distracted him, even if the information he was learning was making him sick. And once they left, he felt alone again.

They weren’t his friends. They couldn’t be. He couldn’t get attached. He already had friends, and forming new friendships with these alternate versions of his own would make it more difficult to achieve his goal of returning.

But they walked, talked, and acted like his friends, even if they weren’t exactly the same in personality; the feelings they held towards him were the same sort of affection. It was difficult.

Except for Lance.

He sunk down with his back to the bed. Fuck. _Lance_.

Keith had agonized more about Lance within the past two days than he had in the past year. The Lance in his universe didn't need Keith's constant worrying. 

It was nauseating to realize that not only had Keith’s boyfriend Lance almost witness Keith dying, but back home, his friend Lance had tried to reach out to him as he floated through space, just a few feet too far from catching him before he had shut his eyes.

He had thought that this universe was one where everything was fine, and in comparison to the war Keith was in, it was. He shouldn’t be complaining.

But _god_ , could they ever get a break? Was this supposed to be his break? Every time he thought he was beginning to put a part of the puzzle together, he was bombarded with another piece of information that ruined everything. In just two days, he already could feel himself being worn down by having to pretend to be someone else.

His mind was plagued with the image of his friends trying to reach out to him and failing; his friends being stuck with some useless teenage version of him; his friends without him. How if he fucked up, it would be like that forever, or worse.

It didn’t feel like much of a break.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i love all the theories you guys are making! i feel like i'm writing a murder mystery novel or something lol. 
> 
> every comment means so much to me! as always, tell me what you liked, want to see more of, etc, and don't forget to kudos/bookmark/subscribe!
> 
> next chapter: keith is equally as confused as lance is in love. 
> 
> talk to me on [tumblr](http://koizumi.tumblr.com) and [twitter](http://twitter.com/tsukaleoluvr69)!


	5. Chapter 5

If there was one thing that Keith was one-hundred percent about, it was that he had to get the fuck out of the bed as soon as possible.

It wasn’t just demeaning and constricting to have to have other people take care of his basic necessities, but also frustrating. He wanted to rip his hair out. If he was just allowed to get up for a few minutes to see what was different between his Academy and this world's, it would already be more than what he had learned in the past few days.

Which was that this world’s Keith was a fool, amongst other, more explicit things.

It just didn’t make sense. His mind kept going back to what Pidge had told him. Or rather, implied. He knew that he wouldn’t have ever crashed a ship, but with Lance piloting, it made far more sense. But Pidge had been it clear that she thought Keith had sabotaged them, which—

 _That_ was what didn’t make sense. 

At night, when there was absolutely no one around and there was complete silence, he slapped himself in the face to try and wake himself up.

Maybe it was a dream. Maybe he was in a coma still in his universe, dead to the world and playing out some weird subconscious fantasy as they put him back together.

Of course, he was still there and confined to his bed. It hadn't worked.

Maybe, if he pretended that he had minor memory loss, he could get more information out of Lance. If he asked him without any pretense, Lance would undoubtedly stress over the semantics of _why_ he was asking, and worse, ask questions. Lance wasn’t an idiot. He would find it strange if Keith, out of nowhere, asked him to repeat events that were supposed to be traumatic for the both of them.

But, if he half-lied and said he had forgotten some of the night’s events so Lance would explain it to him…

It would be risky, though. Too little and Lance would wonder if he was faking; too much and he would know he was lying through his teeth, or that his ‘memory loss’ surpassed far more than what was acceptable. Lance cared about his health enough to not ignore it.

He figured Lance’s thought process from that night would’ve been very different from his own, but he also didn’t have many options while he was stuck to a bed and the other three were scrutinizing his every action.

Out of fear for him, for some reason. For his safety or their's, he couldn’t say.

Then there was a crash outside and a very familiar voice screaming _Fuck_!

Speak of the devil and he will appear.

“Lance?”

There was a loud bang and another pained noise from behind his window. Keith squinted, trying to see through through the darkness, and the top of Lance’s head popped into his view as his eyes focused.

“How did you know I was here?!”

Keith rolled his eyes. Lance was the only person foolish enough to both skip curfew and try and break into his room at the same time. He thought he was Keith’s Romeo. He wasn’t so concerned about making the others suspicious as much as a nurse coming by and restricting him from having visitors.

“Keith?” Lance called out again. When Keith didn’t answer, he poked his head over the top of the window sill. “Hey, can you get this window open?”

“What are you doing, Lance?” Keith asked, watching as Lance struggled to open the window from the outside. He swayed

“I brought you your stuff! Now let me in before I fall!” Lance trembled uncertainly, showing off his precarious position.

Keith began to detangle himself to lean over, still debating on whether he should help Lance in or push him over. It would be funny to laugh at him. Lance looked at him through the glass, utterly hopeless.

“Keith!” Lance scream-whispered. Relenting, Keith pulled off the last of the monitor’s wires and tugged the window open for him. Lance latched onto his hand and hoisted himself up, arm tensing with his weight. He shot Keith a pitiful look and fell into the room, knocking his arm into the wall.

“Fuck!”

Keith hid his smile with his hand, trying to control his expression. It took a lot of willpower not to laugh. “Seriously, Lance? It’s like midnight.”

“No way, dude! I’m not stupid, I’d never come at midnight. It’s like two in the morning or something. Way less risky.” Lance sat up. He shook his head and what Keith imagined was the throbbing pain in his left side off. A bag was slung over his arm, thick and filled to the top with Keith’s things.

He could tell because there was no way in hell that any Lance would drink a brand called _Sweet Serenade Sugarified Lemonade_ , which was in a very unsafe spot at the top of the bag. Lance loved natural fruits, and he could assume that this Lance did too.

“That for me?"

Lance beamed, pulling out the bottle. “Yup. Catch!” He threw it at Keith’s face and he barely caught it, his arm sluggish from being in the same position for so many hours. “Oops. One for me, too.” 

“You couldn’t wait to bring me a drink until regular people hours?”

“I knew you’d be awake.” Lance shrugged and stood up, moving to sit down on the edge of Keith’s bed. “And I wanted to be alone with you.”

Keith’s heart picked up in pace. Did Lance want to kiss? Or something worse? Why else would anyone break into their significant other’s room at such an odd time?

Keith was screwed.

“Oh.”

Lance saw his expression and snickered, but his gaze fell to his lap. “Relax, Keith. I don’t want to have sex when you can’t even move. I just wanted to talk.” He peeked inside the bag and then held it out for Keith. “Like normal couples do. Here.”

Keith blinked. “We are a normal couple,” he mumbled, taking the bag. It was all toiletries and some clothing. They really did live together. The idea hadn’t properly sunk in yet.

“That’s funny!” Lance grinned at him, tilting his head back. “I don’t think normal couples don’t share near-death experienced together. Not that I’m complaining about that part. It was kind of romantic. Except then you actually almost died and then it wasn’t fun anymore.”

Lance’s eyes were smoldering him as Keith struggled to find words. The longer he looked at Keith, the more he felt like Lance was trying to pick him apart. But not the way the others did. Lance’s words came out of a place of love, a kind that was very different from the friendship he was used to. From both the others and his friends back home.

“I already said sorry.” He lowered his voice. Lance squirmed until he was as close to Keith as possible without intruding on his four-pillow setup.

“I’m not blaming you. Well,” Lance lowered his voice as well. He ran his hand over Keith’s, over the sheets of the bed. He stared at the brush of his fingers over the clothed ridge’s of Keith’s hand. “I don’t think you did anything on _purpose_.”

Keith bit his lip. So Lance think Keith had done something too. Combined with what Pidge said, he would have to start putting more weight into that theory, even if it didn’t make sense.

“Then why do you guys keep telling me not to ‘do that again’?”

“You know why, Keith.”

“About that—”

Lance’s head snapped towards him. “What?” he frowned. The smile dropped off his face in the instant. “You don’t remember? I don’t really want to remind you.”

Keith gave him a flat look, his toes curling to hold himself back from snapping at him. He couldn’t raise his voice. Lance would know that he was substituting for something. “I didn’t even finish my sentence, Lance.”

“You weren’t thinking? I know you’re sorry, Keith. That’s what matters.” Lance grabbed his shoulder. “To me, anyways.” He smiled tentatively at him again, running his thumb over Keith’s collarbone affectionately. “Just tell them off if it bothers you.”

He should continue and tell Lance. The longer he put it off, the more suspicious it got.

However, he’d forgotten to account for the fact that, since Lance had been with him when they crashed, it was then apart of their relationship, and Lance put a lot of weight into it. Even if it was awful, it was apparently theirs. An experience they had together. He couldn’t tell him he didn’t remember something that clearly meant a lot to Lance, and would’ve to this world’s Keith.

Another time, he thought. And with a better plan.

He cocked his head, his hair falling over Lance’s fingers. “What’s in the bag?” He switched topics. Lance’s eyebrows furrowed but he let it go, just like he had yesterday. When Lance continued to stare at him instead of replying, Keith sighed. “I’m tired and in pain, Lance. I don’t want to talk about how I ended up here. Let’s just… spend time together.”

“Fine. But don’t bottle it up, okay? Promise me you’ll talk. It doesn’t have to be today.” Lance dropped his hand and held out his pinky finger. Keith slipped his hand out from underneath the sheets and wrapped his own around Lance’s. They shook on it.

“I promise,” he said.

Lance kissed his cheek before Keith had a chance to reply. “Sorry.” Lance fiddled with the bag. “Couldn’t help it. Anyways, uh, I didn’t have a chance to go to the store today, so there’s nothing actually exciting in here. Just toiletries and clothes from our room.”

Lance’s eyes darted between the wall behind Keith and his face. Keith rubbed his cheek, shaking his head. “Don’t be sorry.” They were dating. People who dated had to at least be able to kiss each other’s cheeks without asking, right? “It was just on the cheek.”

Wringing his hands together, Lance nodded.

“Show me what’s inside?” Keith prompted again.

“Already told you it’s nothing exciting.”

“Hey,” Keith called out. He struggled to prop himself up better so he could lean closer. “It doesn’t matter. You’ll make it exciting.”

Lance’s eyes sparkled. “No need to beg for it, Keith.”

“Oh, shut up and open the bag.”

He did so, fishing out the first item. “Your cologne. And your other one. And your other-other one. For all those situations where you need a different one.”

“I don’t appreciate your sarcasm, Lance.” Keith swiped one of them, but grinned at him. His lungs still felt heavy from nervousness, but he could due with joking around for a bit. It wasn’t like he had any intention to admit anything at this time. He might as well take advantage of Lance’s infectious elation. The colognes were all the same brand; the same one he used back in his universe, too. “One is for sweating. The other is for smell.”

“And the last one is for when you want to punish me, I know. It smells like shit.” Lance nudged his shoulder.

“It doesn’t smell that bad,” he huffed. He knew exactly which one Lance was talking about, because the Lance in his world had made the exact same comment. Bad taste was universal.

“Sure, and water is dry. Next up, hair ties. Just in case you needed them.” Lance winked at him and Keith’s nose crinkled. He prayed that hair ties was not some euphemism between them. “I’ll just leave these right here beside you. In arm’s range. In case you need them.” He dropped the zip-locked bag on his bedside table.

“Stop being a weirdo, Lance.”

“That is insulting!” Lance whined.

“But you can’t deny it.”

“Insulting and cruel.” He sniffled and pulled out a massive pile of clothing onto the bed. “I still haven’t done laundry, so, er, some of these are mine. They might be a bit big, but it’s better than wearing the hospital gown.”

“I don’t know whether to be more concerned that you haven’t done laundry in a month or the fact that I’m pretty sure you only didn’t do it because you wanted me to wear your clothes.” He held up a shirt that said _I’m sorry, I was thinking about cats again._ That one was definitely Lance’s.

“Neither of those things are true! I said I hadn’t done your laundry. I’ve done my own. Obviously. I’m not a heathen, Keith.”

“You let my smelly clothing sit in a corner?”

Lance crossed his arms. “It smelled like you. It wasn’t bad. I wanted to keep it in case you… you know, died.”

Keith opened his mouth, then shut it. What was anyone supposed to say to that?

“I know you don’t want to talk about it. I just didn’t want you to think I haven’t washed my clothes in a month.”

Keith licked his lips. “Good to know.”

“Toothbrush, toothpaste… a hairbrush. No offense, Keith, but your hair's a mess.” Keith patted the top of his head, scowling. “It’s cute, but it’s a mess. Your face wash. Shampoo. A bar of soap because the one’s here are crap. This school makes so much money and yet they can’t buy good soap? Ridiculous, I say.”

Keith hummed in agreement. He didn’t need the experience of staying in the medbay right now. He remembered it clearly from when he was a teenager in his own world, too. “You carried a lot here.”

“Well…” Lance gave a small grin. “You’re my boyfriend. I know you’d do it for me.”

He would, without a doubt in the world. He would do it for any of his friends; he had to remind himself that in this world, it was different.

“I appreciate it.”

Lance’s eyes crinkled. “That’s it, I think. Oh, and I brought your usb to plug into the portable Pidge brought you. I couldn’t find your actual one, but I figured just having the data would be fine.”

The portable?—That must’ve been what they called the electric device. There had to be some kind of information in it. Notes, a browsing history. Hell, even a diary would be useful. “You better not have looked at it.”

“I knew you’d kill me if I did. You’re so romantic like that.” Lance grabbed the bottles of lemonade and hopped off the bed. “And, Keith?”

“Mhm?”

“You know we’re going to need to talk eventually. We can’t put it off forever, even if it’s the easy way out. You promised.”

Keith shut his eyes for a moment. “... I know.” And he still had no semblance of a proper plan. Well, he had one, but then he hesitated. The opportunity was gone. It had been a bad one, anyways.

“Good. Now, let’s pop some bottles! And by bottles I mean your fake stuff—” He held up the sweetened lemonade. “—And my not-fake stuff.” He held up the other bottle.

“Sounds good,” he answered absently.

While Lance scampered off to open the bottles in the bathroom, he grabbed one of the hair ties and shoved his hair into the band, pulling it up into a ponytail. It felt good to have it off his shoulders. He needed to organize his thoughts later. Write them down in the portable, or at least start on a timeline of probable events. Then he could figure out the right questions to ask and the right level of memory loss to admit.

“Thank god, it didn’t spray on me—” Lance came out of the bathroom, words cutting off, and for a moment Keith thought he had done something wrong. Lance’s gaze snapped towards his hair and Keith ran his hands through the ponytail.

Did this world’s Keith not put up his hair? Or, god forbid, was it actually a sex thing? Was he silently propositioning Lance? Was this what was going to get him caught?

“What?”

“N—Nothing!” Lance practically squeaked, his voice raising at least two octaves. He cleared his throat and straightened his back. Keith could see the blush rapidly spreading over his face. “I just, wow. You haven’t actually done that in a while. I brought them as a joke, but—I don’t mean I want you to put it down!"

Nope. Not a mistake. It was just Lance being Lance.

Keith smiled. “It looks good?"

Lance tried to look away, but he couldn’t keep his eyes off Keith. “You always look good.”

He brought over the bottles and sat back down, handing the sweetened lemonade to Keith. Lance’s eyes were slightly dilated and he shoved their bottles together in a toast. Lance smiled back at him.

“To being alive.”

“To being alive.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh my god?? i can't believe this fic is almost at 500 kudos? i remember thinking when i started planning out this story "if this even gets 200 kudos i'll probably cry of happiness" and now here we are. thank you guys so much!! everyone who's reading, whether you've commented or kudos'd or not, thank you for reading and (hopefully) enjoying this story!! ;__;
> 
> next chapter: keith is free.
> 
> as always, please tell me what you liked, want to see more of, theories, etc! the highlight of my days lately has been refreshing and seeing a new comment! 
> 
> talk to me on [tumblr](http://koizumi.tumblr.com) and [twitter](http://twitter.com/tsukaleoluvr69)!


	6. Chapter 6

“Keith, for the love of god. What did I just tell you about pulling out the wires on your monitor? You do realize that it’s tracking whether you’re alive, right?”

Pidge snapped, not looking up from her book. Hunk stifled a grin behind his hand and cast a gleeful look at Keith.

“You’ve done it now, man,” Hunk whistled.

“If he dies because he has a seizure or something and the monitor isn’t attached to notify anyone, don’t blame me.”

Keith bit the inside of his cheek and rubbed his arm over the place where the wires had been pressed into his skin. The area was red and swollen from being jabbed so many times, and although he knew he was making it worse by continually pulling them out, keeping them in made an ache run through his entire left side. “They itch.”

“Life is hard sometimes.” Pidge flipped to the next page. “Suck it up.”

Hunk burst into another fit of laughter.

“Are we laughing at Keith? Can I join in?” Lance kicked the door open, carrying two white plastic bags. “What did he do now?”

“We were discussing his imminent death due to medical negligence, caused by himself,” Pidge deadpanned. Hunk sniffled and stood up to help Lance with the bags. Or, more likely, to get to the food first.

“What a happy, positive topic of discussion, Pidge. Totally suitable while he’s in the medbay.” Lance let Hunk take the bags. “I got something for everybody. Chicken for Hunk, salad for Keith, a sandwich for Pidge, and soup for me. And… a salad for Shiro too, if he comes.”

“What kind of sandwich?” Pidge closed her book.

“Turkey bacon.” Lance grinned and puffed out his chest proudly when Pidge smirked.

“Acceptable,” she quipped and went to take the food from Hunk. Lance immediately stole her spot by his bedside, tugging the stool forward with a screech.

Keith quirked an eyebrow. “Salad?” It had never been one of his favourites.

Lance laughed and tugged at his collar a little. “Pidge may or may not have threatened me if I didn’t bring you something easy to swallow. Said something about hurting your throat. She’s worried that your health is going to decline again.”

“I don’t need you guys fussing over me.” He really didn’t. He could take care of himself; he had for years. But, also, the more time they spent asking him questions, the greater chance it would be that he would let something slip. “I can get by own my own.”

Lance smiled softly at him, holding onto Keith’s hand. He ran his thumb over Keith’s palm, drawing circles over his skin. “I know. But we’re your friends, so you don’t have a choice here, pal.”

Keith’s breathing grew a bit unsteady and he swallowed. “Good to know.”

Pidge hollered in the background when Hunk spilled some of Lance’s soup on her shirt. Hunk was torn between another fit of laughter and a stream of anxious apologies. Keith sighed, his face hardening.

He missed his friends.

“Where’s Shiro?”

Shiro hadn’t been to see him since the first day he woke up. The most logical assumption was that Shiro was busy, but Keith couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that Shiro could be avoiding him. But why, he had no idea. Shiro never ran away from his problems.

Lance shrugged. “Beats me. I haven’t seen him in days either. Pidge would probably know, though. Maybe he’s working on your case still? I hear they work students like dogs when they’re hired for official Garrison jobs.”

Keith nodded. That made sense. He still couldn’t lose the feeling, though. He’d have to boot up the portable later and sift through the cameras to try and find Shiro, or send him a message, for his own peace of mind.

It wasn’t that he was worried about Shiro finding out about him. He had no decisive proof. If any of them brought it up, he’d resort back to his earlier plan of feigning minor memory loss. He was far more concerned about Shiro jumping to a conclusion on the crash that wasn’t true because of Keith’s slightly odd behavior.

“I’m sure it’s fine.” Lance brought his other hand up to rub out the crease on Keith’s forehead. “Now, you gotta get some food in you. And put the wires back in already!”

He jumped off the stool to grab the bags that Hunk and Pidge abandoned on the floor to go to the bathroom. Keith rubbed the wires in between the pads of his fingers. He knew that he should probably put them in, but he couldn’t. They were irritating, and they were just a precaution anyways. He slipped his left arm underneath the sheets and tucked the wires underneath them to make it look as if he had them in.

Lance set the salad on his lap and then put his soup on his own, holding out a fork for him.

“Thanks,” Keith took it and brought his knees closer to his chest, propping up the salad.

“We need to get you like a bed tray or something.” Lance brought the soup up to his lips and sipped it. A blush from the heat of the liquid spread over his face and Keith looked away, down at his own food.

“That can be next on your reasons to break into my room at ungodly hours.”

Lance snorted. Pidge and Hunk came back and they ate together in mostly silence, the others making the occasional small talk while Keith watched and listened quietly.

Most of all, he was just grateful none of them accused him of sabotage.

Shiro never came.

******

Eventually, they all excused themselves for class and Keith was alone again.

The first thing he did was bring his arm out from underneath the sheets. It was stiff and cramped from being tucked in the same position for so many hours, but at least it didn’t itch. He flexed his fingers and rolled his shoulder, sighing as the relief of movement rippled over him.

He reached over and shut the blinds on his window, just in case, and pulled out the portable Pidge had given him from his drawer, as well as the USB he had safely hidden in the corner. He had no idea what would be on it, but he was both terrified and uncontrollably excited to find out. This could be his first step in getting back home.

He opened the cover of the portable and inserted the USB into the side panel, waiting as it booted up. The loading only took a few moments, and then it brought him back to the home page.

There were three rows of pixelated icons for him to press. He started with the first one, entitled _Messages._

Six-hundred unread messages.

As he expected, most of them were from Lance. The most recents one was from last night. _Hey! When you get this message me back!!!!!_ followed by sixteen seemingly random, very small pictures of a person’s face smiling, then laughing, then smirking.

The other ones were significantly less amusing.

_Sent June 30, 21XX from Lance: Please wake up. I’m sorry for everything I’ve ever done wrong I’m sorry for every time we argued and every time I made you sad and for all the time we wasted not being together and for that time I ate all of your pie and when I stole your essaya nd when I pranked you with water guns. I want to create new memories please wake up I love you so much I misj you so much please don’t stop breathing please I love you I lve you I l_

He tapped the back button, dropping the portable.

He shouldn’t have read it. It wasn’t meant for him. Lance and this world’s Keith were in love, and Lance expected someone who loved him to read those messages. He clenched and unclenched his fists, squeezing his eyes shut to stop himself from tearing up, trying to focus on anything but what he had just read.

His thoughts immediately shifted to his friends. Were they sending similar messages to his room, begging him to wake up? Was he already dead? Was the other Keith there and making them feel just as uncomfortable and lost as Keith felt right now? Every time he panicked, the same thoughts flooded into his mind.

He gasped, each breath seeming to hit a wall in his chest. Trembling, he picked it back up and clicked on the next name, which was Pidge's. There were only two missed messages.

_Sent July 27, 21XX from Katie: Hey! Hope the portable is working out well. Shoot me a message whenever you see this._

_Sent June 20, 21XX from Katie: How did your evaluation go?_

Evaluation? That could’ve meant a lot of things. Psychological, physical, even a flying test. He added that to his list of new mysteries.

 _Sent July 27, 21XX from Hunk: I heard Katie got you a new portable. I know it sucks to be stuck in bed so I took this picture of my cat for you._ Underneath the message was a picture of what he assumed was Hunk’s cat. It looked exactly like him; big, fluffy, and warm. He smiled briefly, saving it.

_Sent July 13, 21XX from Hunk: Miss you, buddy. Wake up soon._

_Sent June 21, 21XX from Hunk: When do you get the results back?_

He scrolled up.

_Sent June 21, 21XX to Hunk: Went fine. I think I passed._

_Sent June 21, 21XX from Hunk: Hey!!! How did your eval go?_

Nothing helpful, then. The only person left was Shiro. He wasn’t surprised that he only had four friends he regularly messaged.

_Sent July 27, 21XX from Takashi: Well, this is a lot easier than writing a letter. They won’t give me a break. It’s a nice experience, but I’m getting really tired. We haven’t made a lot of progress so far, but I’m more on the extraction side of things than the analysis, so I don’t really know what they’ve discovered yesterday and today, if anything. Let me know if you’re feeling alright. I’ve been worried. Don’t tell my supervisor I haven’t been completely focused though. Don’t push yourself and be patient with your recovery. I managed to snap a picture of the last bits of wreckage when no one was looking._

The picture was too small to see clearly. He nibbled on his lower lip and pressed it before he had time to change his mind.

At first, he couldn’t even tell what was happening. The image was slightly blurry, but he could tell it was mostly a mass of chipped rock and dirt. He zoomed in by dragging his fingers apart, squinting against the bright light of the screen.

There was something shiny and metal stuck in the dirt, but he had no idea what it was. There were thousands of things that were silver and inside a ship. It was probably nothing.

_Sent July 27, 21XX to Takashi: Hey. Sorry for the late reply, I just woke up from a nap. I feel fine. Way better than yesterday. You okay?_

He only had to wait a few seconds to get a reply.

_Sent July 27, 21XX from Takashi: Just working still, you know how it is. Did everyone else already come by?_

_Sent July 27, 21XX to Takashi: Yeah. Lance said he left the food he bought for you in front of your door._

_Sent July 27, 21XX from Takashi: I’ll have to tell him thanks._

He right clicked to save the picture and then exited out of the messages. He would go through the others later, but he didn’t want to have to face Lance’s messages again. Not right now. Not with the image of Lance smiling and trying to feed him soup, happy and content, thinking Keith was his boyfriend, still on his mind.

The next icon of note was called _Diary._ If that wasn’t convenient, he didn’t know what was. He tapped it and was met with a pop-up.

_Please enter your password in order to continue._

He frowned. Okay. He tried his usual passwords first, and ones he thought this world’s Keith might’ve used: _Lionheart, Pilot8888, jubjo92134, Lance, Flying, Pilot, Academy, Love, Password._

Wrong, wrong, wrong. He switched the keyboard to Korean, and when that didn’t work, Japanese.

_Keith. Kogane. Lance. Shiro. Pidge. Katie. Hunk. Five. Friendship. Password. Diary. Enter. Password1. Password2. Lance. Passwordjsafjsdhfajskdfjas_

The window told him in angry red text, _Wrong_. He scowled and closed out of the window.

Pidge always made fun of him for his predictable passwords, and he had exhausted all the ones he could think of. It had to be about something he wasn’t aware of yet. He could ask Pidge to hack into it, but then she would know he forgot his password.

 _Videos_ was directly beside _Diary._ There were only six of them, all with Lance or one of his friends as the thumbnail. He pressed the most recent one.

“Is it on?” the Lance in the video called, jumping a little off the ground and waving his arms. They looked to be in their bedroom. The date at the corner of the video said _January 7, 21XX._

“Yeah, it’s on.” That was Keith’s voice, as familiar as he knew his own voice to be, but there was something about it that was different. The tone, maybe, or the enunciation of his words.

“Get over here!” Lance called and ushered Keith over until they were both squarely in front of the camera. “You sure you locked the door?”

Keith saw himself roll his eyes, but he let Lance tug him in close. They both melted against each other; Keith rested his face against Lance’s shoulder, arms curling around Lance’s waist, and Lance brushed his lips over Keith’s ear, grinning. Keith laughed softly and squirmed, fingers tracing over Lance’s lower back. It was like they were speaking without words, translating their affection through touch rather than speech.

It was a massive contrast between how he and Lance were now. No wonder Lance had been so confused. They looked the exact same, but the smile Keith had in the video was wholly different from the one he wore earlier. He had to try harder if he was going to be convincing once he could no longer use the excuse of sickness.

“Of course I’m sure, dumbass.” Keith shoved him a little. “Now, are you going to hurry up or do you want the battery to die in the middle of it?”

Lance nipped Keith’s ear and Keith _sighed,_ tilting his head to the side. “What’s that thing Shiro always says? Patience yields focus? I feel like that applies here.”

And then Lance shoved him down onto the bed and they started to kiss, Keith’s hands sliding up Lance’s stomach underneath his shirt, brushing over something that made Lance moan.

Keith choked, feeling bile rise in his throat, and he slammed the pause button. Very slowly, he dragged the timing of the video further and further, until—

He shut the cover on the portable, leaning back against his pillow and trying to catch his breath. It should've been hilarious, but all he felt was an all-consuming sickness.

So, he hadn’t discovered anything besides Lance’s broken heart, a few cryptic messages that were no use to him without further information, and a fucking sex tape, which was useless, not to mention invasive.

He set the portable back onto his bedside table and covered his face with his hands, willing his reddened face to cool. He wasn’t embarrassed so much as ashamed for having witnessed it. It felt like he had intruded on something intimate, just like reading Lance’s message had. They weren’t just any couple. They were truly, entirely in love, and he hadn't even recognized the extent of it until he saw it in front of him.

It was something that he couldn’t understand. And, he was starting to think he would never understand it. The level of affection they had for each other may have been attainable for this Keith, but he couldn’t imagine himself ever acting like that. Not to mention the idea of his world’s Lance sending him those messages was laughable, if not a little scary.

He sat there for what felt like hours, desperately trying not to replay what he had seen and read over and over in his head. Not the messages, not the video, not Lance’s gaze on him, full of unfaltering adoration.

But no matter how hard he tried, all he could hear was Lance’s voice, echoing like a mantra.

 _Please wake up. I’m sorry for everything_ —

“Keith?” his nurse called. “The doctor is here to speak to you about your discharge. Is it alright if he comes in?”

 _I want to create new memories please wake up I love you so much I misj you so much please don’t stop breathing please I love you_ —

He still wasn’t any closer to getting out than he was three days ago, and his future prospects seemed bleak.

“Yeah,” Keith whispered, then coughed and spoke louder. “Yes, it’s fine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :3c
> 
> as always, tell me your theories, likes, etc! thank you so much for reading!
> 
> next chapter: shiro appears in the flesh.
> 
> talk to me on [tumblr](http://koizumi.tumblr.com) and [twitter](http://twitter.com/tsukaleoluvr69)!


	7. Chapter 7

Keith would never take the ability to walk for granted ever again.

“Can you please walk to the end of the room and back, Mr. Kogane?” His doctor asked. He was an older man, with a scruffy brown beard streaked with grey and creases underneath his eyes. Keith followed his instruction, walking from one wall to the other. His legs creaked with every movement, but he pushed through because he was finally _walking_. “Very good.” His doctor smiled at him gently.

Keith put one hand on the wall to steady himself, moving his ankle in circles. They’d given him a healthy dosage of painkillers before they pulled him out of bed, but the fact he’d been able to move at all was already a fantastic sign, according to his doctor.

“ _Very_ good.” His doctor looked down at his clipboard, then slipped it into his bag. “I must say, I’m shocked at how fast you’re recovering. We upgraded the monitor to administer an experimental type of nutrient. I’ll have to give our analysts the good news that it worked.”

Keith held back a snort. He wasn’t going to ruin their ambitions by saying he hadn’t even had it in for the past few days. “Yeah.” He stretched out, sliding his hand downwards on the wall. “Thanks for looking over me.”

His doctor gave him another eye-crinkling smile. He had to be a father, or maybe even a grandparent. Everything about him, from his demeanor to his words, was so warm. “It’s my pleasure. I would hate to see the Academy’s best junior pilot pass from a silly malfunction.”

Nodding, Keith did his best to smile back. Clearing his throat from what felt like a constant block of anxiousness, he started, “About my discharge…”

His doctor laughed and guided him to sit down again. Keith returned back to dangling his legs off his bed, breath held in anticipation.

“I knew you were going to ask that.” His doctor chuckled. “You can go back to your room, as long as you wear a compact monitor on your wrist. It connects to the central computer system here in the medbay with your coordinates if your vitals ever go below a certain point. Other than that, you won’t feel it. Oh, and you have to take your medication, Mr. Kogane. Too many people end back up here because they think they can just stop.”

Keith exhaled, ducking his head, relieved beyond words. Even if every other lead he’d gotten on his mysterious appearance in this world was a dead end, being able to walk was a good step towards finding something concrete.

“I usually wouldn’t discharge a patient so soon. It’s only been three days since you woke up from your coma. It’s practically unheard of. But we have no legal reason to keep you here, considering your recovery speed…”

“I’ll take my medicine.”

“Good. You’re a nice young man. I trust you’ll recognize the seriousness of your condition, despite your current relatively good health, and follow the discharge instructions. I’ll send the nurse in to help you get your things packed.”

His doctor gave him a long look, then waved and exited the room. Once the door was closed, Keith reached for his portable and opened up the messages tab, clicking on Lance’s name. He covered the messages above with his other hand as he typed.

_Sent July 27, 21XX to Lance: They’re discharging me._

He didn’t bother to put it down, knowing Lance would reply right away.

_Sent July 27, 21XX from Lance: ALREADY????_

_Sent July 27, 21XX from Lance: Is that even safe??_

_Sent July 27, 21XX to Lance: They said my recovery is going better than expected._

_Sent July 27, 21XX from Lance: Wait I’ll be in the room when you get back I’m going to skip class!!!!!_

Keith smiled, running his fingers over the keypad, before putting the portable back into sleep mode.

The nurse came in and put the compact monitor on his wrist. Together, they shoved what little things he had into the bags that the others had left lying around his room. He took out the USB from the portable and slipped it into his pocket. It was by far the most the most important thing he owned.

“You have a visitor here to walk back with you.” The nurse ruffled his hair. “Fortunately. I would be fretting all day over your health if I didn’t know someone was with you. Honestly, I can’t believe he allowed this discharge…”

Keith blinked. A visitor? It’d been less than five minutes since he messaged Lance. He couldn’t imagine he had been able to escape his class and run to the medbay in even twice that time. “Thanks,” he said inattentively, slipping out as she tried to complain to him.

He carried the bags on his arms, pushing the door open and heading down the hallway. He’d seen it on the cameras on his portable briefly, but it didn’t look any different from the one he remembered in his world. The rooms branched off on the sides, and through the windows that had their curtains open, he could see other teenagers nursing their injuries.

He walked through the larger set of doors that lead to the main area of the medbay and stopped dead in his tracks.

“I didn’t expect to see you walking when I got here, considering you were almost dead three days ago.” Shiro laughed, voice full of relief. “Hey.”

******

Shiro wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer when he asked Keith if he’d let him carry his bags. It was a losing conversation, anyways. Shiro was somehow even more stubborn than usual when it came to their health.

Back home, that was. It rang true for this world as well.

“I thought you were working,” Keith said, trying not to sound as shocked as he actually was. “You missed the others by an hour.”

Shiro rubbed the back of his head. “I just got off.”

“At the perfect time?” Keith questioned, quirking an eyebrow, unconvinced.

“I was checking my messages when I decided to check up on you through the cameras. I saw the doctor talking to you and you walking fine, so I knew that they’d be discharging you today.”

They walked past a group of wide-eyed teenagers who were whispering among themselves as they turned the corner, only to stop when they passed by them.  “I’m lucky.”

He could feel Shiro looking at him as he answered. “That you are.”

He walked a single step behind Shiro, letting the other boy guide him to his and Lance’s room. It ended up being a different one than he had in his world, so it must’ve been Lance’s. It wasn’t too far from the medbay, thankfully. The short-term painkillers were beginning to wear off.

“Can I come in?” Shiro asked as Keith used his thumb to open the door. For a moment he was terrified that it wouldn’t respond to him, but it clicked open with ease.

“Why not?” Keith peeked inside the room to see if Lance was there or if there was anything gross lying around. There wasn’t, so he opened it fully and let Shiro in behind him.

It wasn’t identical to Lance’s room in their world, which he’d been to a handful of times after sparring with him, but it had the same style. Their things, mostly Lance’s, were strewn about the room. At least a dozen pictures of them were hung on the walls. In every one of them they were smiling, big and genuine. In one of them, they had their arms slung over each other’s shoulders, Keith’s cheek nuzzled against Lance’s and his eyes shut from how hard he was smiling.

He’d never smiled like that before. He brushed his fingers over his lips, wondering how it felt.

“Wow. He wasn’t kidding when he said he hadn’t cleaned up lately.” Shiro dropped the bags on the floor by the only bed in the room. “That’s scary.”

“Scary?” Keith picked up another photo. They were kissing, with Hunk and Pidge making disgusted faces in the background.

“He’s from such a big family, I imagine he’s used to things like cleaning. It looks more like he just… gave up.”

Keith set the picture down, sighing. “I know,” he mumbled. He didn’t know why he felt responsible for it. He hadn’t been the one to crash the ship, or whatever it was the other Keith had done.

However, he knew he was partly the cause of the other Keith not being where he should be, and he was sure his lack of reciprocation was a factor in Lance’s non-recovery since he awoke.

“It’ll be easier for both of you now that you’re not in the medbay anymore.”

Keith tried to take another step, but he ended up falling down onto the bed instead, his legs finally breaking underneath his weight. Shiro took a seat beside him a few inches away, leaning his arms on his knees and cocking his head to look at him.

Shiro sighed, his fingers inching over his knees. He seemed anxious. It was making Keith nervous too.

“What?” Keith asked, frowning.

“Keith…” Shiro looked at the space in between them on the bed, then back at him. His eyes flittered about, trying to focus on Keith but failing, and Keith knew something had to be wrong.

It made sense. Shiro had been avoiding him, then. Keith swallowed harshly, wetting his lower lip.

“I know what happened.”

Keith froze, his nails slowly digging into the mattress. The world seemed to spin for a moment and he blinked, screwing his eyes shut for a moment, trying to breathe, regain his focus, but it wasn’t working.

Whatever Shiro knew—about him, or the other Keith, or something else that he wasn’t aware of—none of it could be good.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, but he knew his reaction would be more than enough for Shiro to think he was right, regardless of whether he actually was or not. Keith didn’t want to lie, or tell the truth, and unknowingly admit to something terrible or painful.

“I’m not angry.” Shiro inched closer, not intruding into Keith’s personal space, but Keith still felt suffocated by his presence, or, rather, his questions. “I don’t even want to know why you did it. I just needed to tell you because… eventually, people are going to find out, and you're going to need an excuse.”

Keith covered his face with his hand, struggling to get his thoughts together. So it was about the other Keith, and not him. He recalled Pidge and his’ conversation—Lance, too, making Keith promise he had to talk.

He was on cleanup duty for the other Keith’s mistakes. This world was nice. The technology was more advanced, there was no war, all of the people who could end up being his friends were happy and healthy. He had a boyfriend who loved him more than he could ever fathom.

Except, there was no amount of payment that he would ever take to switch places with someone. He didn’t sacrifice himself because he hated himself or his life. He did it because he loved it, because his friends had made him love it.

“Fine. I’ll think about it.”

“No, tell me now.” Shiro sat up straight, crossing his arms. “Tell me what you would say to them.”

Keith grimaced. “I… I wasn’t thinking. I made a mistake.”

“We both know that won’t fool anyone, and definitely not Lance.”

Keith threw his hands up in the air. “What’s your idea, then?”

“You say you cut the panel open because you wanted to test Lance’s piloting skills.”

“I would never do tha—”

His throat went dry.

Pidge had said that they crashed because of a malfunction in one of the ship’s panels. And that meant...

“I would never do that,” he repeated out loud.

He scoped the mass of his brain, but he couldn’t figure out a single logical reason for it. Keith and Lance were in love. They were there together. He doubted Keith was suicidal, or that he wanted to kill his boyfriend.

But they’d been passive aggressively blaming him for days over it. Did they all know? Was this what Pidge had meant?

He was starting to begin to hate the other Keith.

“Half of it is true.”

“He’ll hate me.”

Shiro laughed and shook his head. “There are very few things you could do to ever make Lance hate you. He looks at you like you hung the moon and stars.” His laughter died down and he reached out, rubbing Keith’s shoulder. “He needs closure. And you need an alibi, unless you want to tell them the truth, which I don't even know. I'm trying my best here.”

Keith’s shoulders fell. “I don’t know why I did it.”

He observed Shiro’s reaction out of the corner of his eyes. Shiro gave him a confused look and spoke slowly, carefully. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t remember.”

Shiro’s brows knit together. “What do you mean _you don’t remember_?”

“That’s it. I don’t remember what I was thinking. That’s the truth.”

Shiro pulled his hand back. They stared at each other before Keith had to look away; the expression on Shiro’s face was a mix of both turmoil and betrayal. The other Keith would’ve told them earlier, probably. Maybe that was what Shiro had been searching for that night when they spoke, when he asked Keith if he remembered. And now, he thought Keith had lied to him.

Which he did. For a good reason.

He was hyper-aware of every ache and pain in his body, then. It felt like he was collapsing from the inside out.

“You have amnesia and you didn’t _tell_ anyone?”

Keith shrugged. “I didn’t know what to say! Everyone assumed I knew and—you guys were all blaming me for something and I didn’t want to admit to it without knowing what it was.”

“No one was blaming you,” Shiro snapped back. He ran both of his hands through his hair, but he wouldn’t stray his gaze from Keith. His eyes were like a wall around Keith, stopping him from running, but trapping him in place. “God, Keith. Do you not trust us? We’re your friends, we’re not going to be mad at you. We’re just worried. All of us.” His words were frantic and careless; a far cry from his usual conduct.

“I’m sorry, Shiro.” He curled his fingers over his other arm, not knowing what else to say. He was sorry. He was sorry he had ripped out their stupid, childish Keith from his rightful place. He shouldn’t be the one sitting there, taking the blame for something he didn’t do.

“You should be apologizing to everyone, especially Lance. Not just me.” Shiro shook his head. “What do you even remember, Keith? You need to get your story straight before the evaluation and if anyone else finds out.”

“I…” He fretted, biting onto his lip again. From the amount he’d been doing it the past few days, he had scabs all over it. “I know that Lance and I crashed. I don’t remember how, or why, or what I did.”

“Christ,” Shiro muttered, and that was the closest to swearing Keith had ever heard him go; both this world’s Shiro and his own. “This conversation started with me assuming you were making up an excuse to finding out you’ve been faking it this entire time.”

Keith stood up, balling his fists at his sides. “How would you feel if you were in my position? Waking up and not knowing what happened, but everyone is dropping hints that you tried to kill yourself or something and—That’s not what happened!”

“How would you know? You just said you don’t remember.” Keith could hear Shiro trying to stay calm, pressing his palms to his lap. “No one can help you if you don’t tell them—us.”

“I just told you everything.” Keith turned around and walked to the other side of the room, just to get away from Shiro’s smothering nearness. He ended up in front of a table by the window opposite to the bed. On it was a pile of books, all with Keith’s name on them, and a framed picture of him smiling at the camera.

He had to physically hold himself back from throwing it on the floor. The only reason why he didn’t was because he knew it had to be Lance’s.

“You’ve had amnesia since you woke up and you didn’t tell anyone. Is that right?”

“Considering that’s what I _just_ told you, yes.”

Shiro scoffed. The bed creaked as he stood up. “I love you, Keith. You’re my best friend. So, I hope you recognize how much work I’m going to have to do to keep this from blowing up in your face. You’d be expelled from the Academy if they found out you hid something like that from them.”

 _Wouldn’t be the first time,_ he thought. He caught himself before saying it out loud.

He remembered when Shiro and him were kids, before either of them had started at the Academy. One time, they’d fought over Keith’s living accommodations. Or, really, lack of. Shiro had argued with him until their voices were hoarse and their faces red, insisting that Keith live with him until he found a proper place to live. Shiro had won that fight, of course, and almost every one after that.

Shiro knew him too well. And this Shiro knew him better than he knew himself.

“I’ll stop lying,” he grumbled. He picked up one of the notebooks on the desk and flipped it open. They were his physics notes. He recognized them from when he had been at the Academy and actually studied, before Shiro had went on the Kerberos mission. He was abruptly acutely aware of how odd it was that he had been put not just in the past, but in a world that was completely different from his own, yet so similar. “Okay?”

“... And, you need to tell Lance.”

Keith slammed the book shut and put it back down. “Fine.”

He heard the rustling of one of the bags they had brought in. He glanced over his shoulder, watching as Shiro laid out his things on the bed, likely to keep his hands occupied.

Keith brushed past him and took out his portable from one of the other bags before Shiro could grab it. Flipping it open, there were three missed messages on the home screen.

_Sent July 27, 21XX from Katie: What the hell. Did they seriously let you leave after three days? That’s either illegal or stupid, or both. You better go straight to bed._

_Sent July 27, 21XX from Lance: I’M ON MY WAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!_

_Sent July 27, 21XX from Hunk: I’m coming over later. Please don’t let me walk in on you and Lance making out_

Keith looked at his feet, pressed to the floor. He definitely wasn’t resting like he’d said he would.

Placing the portable at the foot of the bed, he finally shifted towards Shiro again. “Is there anything else you came to interrogate me about?”

He knew he shouldn’t have snapped at him. It was hard, though. He didn’t have a plan, and he was stressed, and _nervous_. He didn’t like not having a plan. Shiro had ripped the information out of him before he had been ready, and he was left floundering.

“Is there anything else you’ve been lying about?” Shiro retorted. “Keith, look at me.”

Keith jerked, but looked up.

“I’m worried because I care. I don’t know how you don’t see that. If you get caught by one of the others before you tell them, it could seriously affect your relationships with them. Even with Lance. And if you get caught by the school, you’ll be suspended.”

“You said you knew I cut the panel open. You told me to make an excuse, not tell the truth.”

“That was before you admitted to having amnesia.”

“I don’t see how this is—”

“Keith, are you here—Hey, Shiro! It feels like I haven’t seen you in forever.”

Keith spun around as Lance kicked the door open with his foot, carrying his school bag in one hand and a Garrison store bag in the other. “Hey, Lance.” Shiro gave a pained smile. “I was helping Keith unpack, but I’ll let you take over.”

“Thanks.” Lance grinned. Keith couldn’t bring himself to smile back. Lance’s happy expression faltered slightly, but he didn’t hesitate as he moved forward, setting the bags down on their bed beside Keith’s.

Keith kept Shiro’s gaze steady, before the other boy stepped forward and pulled him in for a light hug. “Get some rest, Keith. I’ll see you two later. Don’t forget what I said.”

He watched as Shiro left the room, quietly closing the door.

Lance draped one of his arms over Keith’s waist. “What did you guys talk about?”

“Nothing important.” Keith let Lance tug him onto the bed. They toppled down together among all of the bags and Lance’s shirts still strewn about. He flinched as his back hit the mattress.

“Oops,” Lance winced. “Sorry. Did they give you medication to bring home?” He propped himself up on one elbow. Keith glanced up at him.

“I’m supposed to take it before I sleep.”

“Damn it.” Lance flopped back down on the bed beside him, going back to holding him around his middle. He brushed his nose against Keith’s shoulder, rubbing up and down his sides. “... Is this okay?”

The tension in his back began to unwind like a coil. Lance’s hands were warm and soothing, shooting pleased sensations over his spine. He hadn’t realized how stiff he’d gotten from arguing with Shiro. It felt like a massage, but at the same time, with Lance looking at him so intensely, something different as well.

Something romantic.

He swallowed his thoughts. “Yeah.”

“It’s unreal how they discharged you this early. I mean, I’m not complaining. It’s hard to sleep without you beside me.” Lance chuckled, his breath fanning over Keith’s neck. He twisted away from him, tickled, but Lance kept his grip tight. “But… I don’t know. I don’t want you to end back up there.”

“I won’t,” he promised. He couldn’t let that happen. He had far too many mysteries to solve, and none of them involved being stuck in bed again. “I’ll take it easy.”

Lance hummed, shutting his eyes, still absently stroking Keith’s side, before he lowered his hand and began to slip it up Keith’s shirt, brushing over his skin.

Keith jolted back, the tenseness in his body returning. Lance’s eyes flew open, panicked, and Keith tried to relax his shoulders. No one’s normal reaction to their boyfriend touching them non-sexually was to run away.

“Sorry,” they both said at the same time. Lance looked at the space in front of him on the bed sheepishly.

He had told Shiro he would tell him. It would give Lance a context as to why Keith was acting distant, and Lance would be able to help him figure out the truth about what had happened that day. Maybe he was hiding something, because he assumed Keith knew too.

Or, it could irreparably break Lance’s heart to know Keith didn’t trust him. Lance was… sensitive. He was young and in love, and he’d always been the more emotional of them as a group.

There was a pestering feeling, deep inside him, that told him that it wasn’t just the other Keith that had fucked up, but also him. By not admitting things on the very first day, he had already done just as much as the other Keith, even if his original actions for getting here were selfless.

He pushed it away. He didn’t need insecurity right now.

“Lance,” Keith called out, before he could stop himself. Lance sat up, giving Keith one of his unintentional puppy looks. “Are you upset with me?”

“No,” Lance answered immediately. “... Why? Are you upset with me?”

“I… I don’t want you to think I’m trying to avoid you. Or something.” He shrugged. “I’ve just been out of it since I woke up.”

Lance gave him a mild smile. “I can tell. But—it’s fine! It’s fine. Don’t worry about me, Keith. You’re the one who needs to rest up. You just woke up three days ago, no one’s expecting you to be normal right now.”

“No, I…” Keith pursed his lips. “I’ve been a bad boyfriend. I’m sorry.”

Lance swayed a bit, then stretched his hand out, catching Keith’s own in his. Keith’s fingers were longer, but Lance’s hands were bigger. They fit well together. Keith had never properly held hands with his world’s Lance before.

“That is not true. You’re the best boyfriend ever. Well, you’re the only boyfriend I’ve ever had, but that’s not the point!”

Keith quieted Lance by tugging him back down onto the bed beside him. “No. I’ve been…” _I lied to you. I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m not your boyfriend._ “I’ll be better from now on.”

If it was possible, Lance melted even more. Keith, growing up mostly alone and keeping to himself, had never seen romantic love so blatantly in front of him. It wasn’t as uncomfortable to experience as it was when Lance had kissed him that first day, but it was offbeat from anything Keith had ever known. Not even the stupid sex tape had been able to convey the entirety of Lance's love. It’d be more flattering if Keith was actually the person Lance was in love with it.

But he already knew that wasn’t possible, or true.

“Okay,” Lance said softly. “Me too, then.”

Keith nodded, even if he had no idea what Lance thought he had done wrong.

“Do you think I’m taking advantage of you?” He asked suddenly. Lance raised his hand, covering Keith’s cheek with his palm.

If Shiro knew the whole truth, Keith was sure he would’ve answered yes. Pidge and Hunk, too. Maybe even Lance.

“What? Where did that come from? Are you sure you’re feeling alright?”

“I’m fine, Lance.” He shook Lance’s hand off of his face. It felt too nice.

“God, no. We’re dating, Keith. That means we take care of each other. You’re injured, damn it. And I know you’d do everything I’m doing for you for me if I was the one out of commission. So, no, you aren’t.” Lance sighed. “I love you.”

Keith opened his mouth and Lance looked at him expectantly, the affection practically seeping from his every pore.

“I love you too,” he whispered, and he forced himself to think of his world’s Lance, reaching for him, nagging him, arguing with him, saving him. He did. He loved his friends. It wasn’t a lie.

Lance locked eyes with him, and then spoke, voice so quiet that Keith would’ve missed it had he not been watching Lance’s lips move. “Can I kiss you?” He hooked his fingers over Keith’s belt and brought him forward until their legs were brushing. Any semblance of thought about his world’s Lance left his mind and he barely had the willpower to reply. Lance’s mouth was so close, hovering over his. Keith could see his eyelashes flutter as he waited.

Perhaps it was because he was still reeling from Lance’s confession, or because he wanted something else to think about, but he answered just as quietly.

“Yes,” he murmured.

_Do it for their relationship. Do it for him. Do it because you fucked up._

But those things were the last things on his mind when Lance captured his lips with his, furiously pressing against him. Lance’s mouth was ardent and eager, as if he was trying to consume Keith’s doubts, all of his worries; as if he was trying to suck them away and leave thoughts of him.

It worked.

Lance cupped the back of his head, fingers tightening around his hair as he opened Keith’s mouth with his tongue. Keith gasped, eyes shutting, and he let Lance take over his mouth, swiping his tongue over Keith’s lower lip. His other hand rested on his hips, and every movement Lance made was distracting and overwhelming him.

Lance laughed against him, his shoulders shaking, and he broke the kiss. “I missed this,” he whispered, and then laid back onto him, peppering kisses all over his mouth.

Maybe it was because he had been in such an awful mood before that the kiss comparatively seemed wonderful, but it was. His whole body tingled with how _good_ it felt to be the center of Lance’s attention.

He lost track of time, letting Lance kiss him until logical reasoning was at the back of his mind, so far from the present that he let himself fall into the rhythm of Lance’s lips on his.

 _Do it for yourself,_ a dreamy voice in his head said, and he did, losing himself to Lance's affection, as if it was meant for him.

Shiro was going to kill him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading as usual!!!! comment and let me know what you think, as always! :^)
> 
> next chapter: keith doesn't have a gay crisis, but he does have a lance crisis.
> 
> talk to me on [tumblr](http://koizumi.tumblr.com) and [twitter](http://twitter.com/tsukaleoluvr69)!


	8. Chapter 8

Keith had known he was gay since he was twelve and he met Shiro.

Once puberty started, he began to appreciate people more. Shiro was the first friend Keith had had in years. He was nice, warm, understanding, but he didn’t let Keith push him around. In some ways, he was Keith’s ability to rationalize when he couldn’t do it himself.

Plus, he was hot.

It wasn’t a thing. It’d never been a thing, and it never would be a thing. He’d never wanted it to be a thing. Keith had never explored the real idea of a relationship, even back when things were calmer for them, when they were just regular students at the Academy.

Above all else, Shiro was his closest friend. After all they’d gone through together, the idea of a relationship seemed lowly and far-off. It would only put complicated feelings where there needn’t be any. The idea was comical.

Lance, however…

Keith could be objective when he really wanted to. He knew Lance was attractive. He was tall, with clear skin and symmetrical facial features. All things that subconsciously told the brain that Lance was _nice_ to look at. He had a big, friendly smile when he was happy, and a cute pout when he wasn’t.

The problem came with his personality. Not that it was bad; Keith was long past the point of genuinely wanting to squabble with Lance to make him genuinely upset. He shut his eyes, remembering the moments before he passed out in space.

Lance would’ve reached for him, if he could. He didn’t doubt he would’ve gotten out of his Lion just to grab his hand.

But that was just it. Lance was kind, eager, witty. He was arrogant beyond what he actually deserved, but just as equally empathetic, even to his self-proclaimed rival. Keith was hot-headed and reckless, making bad decisions at every corner. This situation was proof of that. Keith wasn’t going to fool himself into thinking that they could ever get along as a couple in his world. Maybe he was just jaded about it, but he wasn’t cut out for a relationship.

Not with Lance. Not with anyone.

He turned on the tap, running the water until it was warm and pleasant. He splashed it over his face, rubbing at his cheeks and eyes, sniffling.

So why the hell had it felt so good? Why did he _let_ it happen? He chose this. They had made out for ten minutes and Keith hadn't done anything but kiss him back.

Not only were him and Lance, the real him, incompatible, but Lance was someone else’s boyfriend.

Disregarding that it was another version of him, he was taking advantage of him. Not only was it wrong, but it was distracting him from his goal.

He stood up, wiping off his face with a fluffy, dark red towel. They even had colour-coded towels. It was simultaneously sweet and disgusting. He patted his face dry, then looked up.

His hair was longer than he was used to, but only marginally. He fingered the ends, split and coarse, and winced. Just because he wasn’t looking for love didn’t mean he didn’t like to take care of his appearance. Even when he had lived in the desert and couldn’t shower as much as he’d liked, he tried to keep up his hygiene as best as he could. The bags under his eyes were massive, and his skin was sunken and cool, a green tinge making him look permanently sick.

Frankly, if he was Lance, he would’ve turned away at the first sight of him. It was bordering on gross.

He supposed that was what love was, at least for Lance. Keith had brushed him off and rejected him, all while looking like shit, and Lance had taken it in far better stride than Keith would’ve. He’d always thought of Lance as emotional, but he clearly wasn’t as temperamental as Keith was.

It was admirable, in a way. It would’ve been a better thought if he was watching it, though, rather than living it.

He sniffled again and blew his nose, shaking his head.

“Keith?” There was a knock at the door. “I don’t want to rush you, but, uh, I really, really, really need to pee. So unless you want me to pee on our floor—”

Keith sighed, but it was nearly fond. Lance’s voice dripped of franticness, torn between the normal urge to alleviate himself and not wanting to bother Keith. He opened the door, watching as Lance virtually jumped in relief.

“Thank you!” he squeaked, and Keith stepped back into their room while Lance barreled into the bathroom, locking the door behind him. He heard a soft ‘ahh’ and then the trickling of—well. At least Lance was happy.

He laid back down on the bed. He hadn’t even considered how they’d have to share it. He wasn’t about to make Lance sleep on the floor, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to share a bed with him, either. Not doing so would be suspicious, however.

He berated himself for thinking it was just an excuse. It was the truth.

After a few moments of staring at the ceiling, he heard the toilet flush and the door open. Lance made a satisfied groan, flopping down beside Keith. “You ever go like, two hours holding it in and then you finally let it go?”

“No,” Keith answered impassively.

“I’m not calling you out here, but that’s totally a lie. Either way, it’s fucking incredible.” He supported himself on his elbow, rolling over to face Keith. Keith cocked his head and stared back, observing the way Lance’s face softened when they met eyes.

Lance had nice eyebrows. Eyebrows were a weird thing for him. It was always what he noticed first when he stared at someone. Lance’s were expressive and betrayed his emotions too easily, but they suited him.

“Hey, babe.” Lance grinned. “Can I braid your hair?”

Keith’s reluctant smile dissolved into a small scowl. “Okay, first of all, did you seriously just call me babe?”

Lance blinked, making a doltish face. “Uh,” was his smart reply. Not a very well-planned nickname, it seemed.

“Second of all, why?” He reached up and fingered one strand of hair. It was annoyingly thick and wavy, and the only things he could do with it easily were put it in a bun or ponytail. He’d only washed it a few hours ago and it was already messy again.

Lance’s cheeks went faintly red, a pale blush over the bridge of his nose. “I used to do it for my sisters all the time. It’s supposed to feel good and… relaxing. Like a massage. I’m not going to sneak you extra painkillers or anything, but I figured it’d help. Maybe. I don’t know.”

Keith forced himself to sit back up. It was unbelievable how hard Lance was trying. He cupped Lance’s face in his hands and guided him upwards with him. Lance’s skin was a little greasy from sweat, but soft and warm as he expected. “If you want. I don’t mind.” He poked one of Lance’s cheeks and then dropped his hands, shifting so his back was to Lance.

“You’re supposed to say ‘of course, Lance! I love you and I would be honored!’”

Keith laughed, but it came out dull even to his own ears. “That’s not happening.”

Lance reached over to one of their bedside tables and took out the same bag of hair ties that he had brought to Keith the other day. “I’m kinda disappointed you’re here,” Lance hummed, taking two of the ties out and wrapping them around his wrist. Keith blinked, looking over his shoulder at him. Lance glanced back, then gaped. “Wait. That came out wrong. I swear.”

“Sure,” Keith responded easily, and any anxiousness he had was pulled away when Lance laughed, even if it was tinged with his own little bits of nervousness. He took Keith’s hair in his hands and ran his fingers through it.

“I swear! What I _meant_ to say was that I was looking forward to sneaking into your room again. I even planned all the stuff I was going to bring and how I was going to do it.”

“Oh?”

Lance’s fingers were just long enough to scrape his scalp whenever he looped his hair around. Or maybe it was on purpose. Keith didn’t know how to braid properly, so he had no idea, but it was…

It was good. He relaxed, his shoulders easing.

“Yup. Through the door.”

Keith snorted, covering his mouth with his hand. “Probably a better idea than trying to break in through the window.”

“It wasn’t a bad idea until you scared me and I fell!” Lance raked his fingers lightly over the top of his head again and he bit his lip, looking down at his lap. Definitely on purpose.

“That’s not how you braid hair, Lance,” he grumbled, only annoyed because it was so gratifying.

“What?”

“You know what? I’ll let you continue because I’m nice like that.”

“I still have no idea what you’re talking about, but I’m disagreeing on principle.” Lance chuckled again and Keith felt it brush across the back of his neck. He shivered, jostling Lance’s hold on him. The other boy stayed quiet, working his fingers over Keith’s hair.

His body went a little more pliant every time Lance tugged on his hair or swept over his scalp or the nape of his neck. His eyes closed slowly, until he was able to focus on Lance braiding his hair. He wondered if this was how Lance always treated him. With care and patience. Even their jests were different; they had the same bite, but didn’t bear even the slightest bit of animosity.

After a few more minutes of delicate movements, Lance wrapped the hair tie around his hair, tightening it until it was secured. “There.” He guided Keith to turn back around, one hand on his jaw. “... Um, can I…”

“Yeah,” Keith murmured, eyes still shut. He could feel Lance smile, the small puff of air released when his lips upturned, and then he was pressing their closed lips together.

Another thing that Lance had: really, really nice lips.

He didn’t know whether to feel remorseful or giddy when Lance begrudgingly moved back. Lance was like a distraction, and every time he stopped, the anxiety came crashing back. Over himself, over Lance, over their relationship.

How fucked up was it that he was stuck in an alternate universe and most of his worries were about his relationships?

It was a marvel how Lance hadn’t noticed yet or brought it up properly. Either he and the other Keith were more similar than he thought, which he didn’t want to admit because, to put it plainly, the other Keith seemed like kind of an ass; or Lance was just oblivious to Keith’s personality traits. He doubted it was the latter.

Lance dropped his head to Keith’s shoulder, hugging him close. Keith mirrored him, breathing in against Lance’s neck.

If they were really that similar, then why didn’t he understand anything? If they were really the same person, then why couldn’t he figure it out?

He wasn’t even past the first step of getting home, and he would never be, unless he started to understand himself. The other Keith.

There had to be something he was missing that was even larger than just him cutting the panel open. The reason why he had been driven to do it. He tried to think about what would make him do such a thing, but there was nothing.

He just… wouldn’t.

“Lance,” he said slowly, voice muffled by Lance’s shoulder. Lance made a small, happy noise in reply. “You wanted to talk.”

Lance’s head shot up faster than Keith had ever seen it, including all the times they had fought and flown together. “You want to talk now?”

“You don’t want to?” Keith tilted his head to look at him.

Lance sat up a little straighter, but he didn’t let go of Keith.

“No, I—Of course I do! I just didn’t think you’d bring it up first.” Lance gave what looked to be a forced smile.

He’d been laughing just a moment ago. How had Keith managed to ruin that? It was like he was covering the sun.

“We don’t have to,” he said quickly, curling one arm over Lance’s waist to keep his mind from dizzying. Lance felt like an anchor underneath him, keeping him steady from the uneasiness that kept threatening him. It was like a constant now.

“No, we… we should.” Lance nodded, his cheek brushing Keith’s temple.

He thought about what Shiro said. _Tell him._ He’d made him promise. Keith never minced his words, and he took his promises seriously, especially with Shiro. But Shiro didn’t know what had happened, not really.

What could he say? To Shiro, to Lance, to anyone? _Sorry, I’m not_ really _your boyfriend or your friend. I’m him from an alternate future and I didn’t know how to tell you or anyone so I’ve been faking since I woke up. All of the closure you think you’re getting isn’t real. Surprise!_ He somehow managed to stop himself from laughing out loud at the thought.

He’d been able to tell Shiro some of it. He had to be able to tell Lance. This Lance, who appeared to love him more than anything. He couldn’t be left on his own, anymore. He’d already done enough. And Lance... didn't deserve this. He didn't deserve a fake boyfriend who couldn't remember why they were together.

Keith didn't understand romance still. But looking at Lance, at how handsome and understanding he was and was trying to be, he could understand why he had fallen in love with him in a world where they didn't have to worry about the fate of their lives and the universe at every corner. 

Keith lifted his head, and every inch he moved caused a rush of nausea to run through him.

“Keith,” Lance grazed his thumb over Keith’s side. “What’s wrong?” Keith shook his head, swallowing. 

He wasn’t okay. He was lost. He was confused. He felt even more alone than he had thought was possible, and he’d lived by himself in the desert for almost a year. He’d floated through fucking space, cold and shivering, choking until he died and it’d been less terrifying than this.

Because he didn’t know the answers, and that was far more scary than dying and knowing that he’d done the right thing.

Fuck, he'd wanted to protect him. He thought he had been, that it would be easy to lie his way through a week or two of flirting before he found his way back home. In reality, it'd only been four days and he was already caving because of his mistakes. He'd known immediately that him and Lance had to be dating just by the way he'd reacted when he had woken up. Elation, beyond the realm of pure joy, and Keith had pushed him away. He hadn't told him because he didn't want to ruin their relationship, but he already had. The truth was, he hadn’t been thinking. He’d just woken up when he had to choose whether to lie or not, and his first instinct after Lance had kissed him was to panic, and with panic came frightfully bad decisions.

All he wanted to do was go home, where he hadn’t fucked everything up.

“I need to tell you something,” he whispered, his voice cracking, and he hated it more than anything else he’d ever done, if only because it showed how weak and foolish he had really become.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i added some warnings to the first chapter of this fic, but i'll repeat them here: dubious consent, mentions of suicide (nothing graphic) and panic attacks. albeit if you've made it this far, you've already seen all of these things lol (the dubious consent ends here).
> 
> next chapter: keith opens up. kind of.
> 
> thank you for reading, as always, and don't be afraid to tell me what you thought in the comments! :D
> 
> talk to me on [tumblr](http://koizumi.tumblr.com) and [twitter](http://twitter.com/tsukaleoluvr69)!


	9. Chapter 9

One time, a few months ago, Lance and Keith had been sent on a mission by Coran to a planet under the control of the Galra Empire. It wasn’t anything difficult, or even particularly dangerous; the planet was relatively peaceful aside from its dictators, and most of its land was uninhabited aside from its major cities.

Lance had treated it like a vacation. It’d bothered Keith at first, how Lance didn’t take things seriously even after the dozens of times they’d almost died in seemingly simple missions gone wrong. Annoyed, he’d told Lance to go ahead to the mission site while he checked around for clues.

Surprisingly, Lance had objected. Even if he didn’t think there was a threat, he hadn’t wanted to split up. They didn’t fight much anymore, not over anything that mattered, but Keith was still surprised, admittedly. He didn’t think Lance wanted to spend time with him. They were a team, yes, but they weren’t a perfect team, and he wasn’t even sure if they were friends.

Eventually, the sound of Lance’s whining voice became grating on his ears and they both threw their hands up in the air. “Fine,” Lance had said. “Go off! Who cares? I definitely don’t.” And Keith had stomped away, because it didn’t matter.

After all, it had been an easy mission. Gather intelligence and leave.

Keith had only flown for ten minutes in the opposite direction before picking up on Lance’s distress signal.

He’d never turned back so fast in his life. He’d almost thrown up in his Lion; the only thing that had stopped in was the low rumble of her purr, trying to calm his nerves and keep him focused. 

He’d found Lance flying from a dozen Galra ships, Blue’s muzzle dented. Red had growled and Keith wanted to reassure her, but Lance yelled, “What the fuck, Keith! Took you long enough!” and Keith had felt frozen from guilt.

Lance wasn’t a bad pilot by any means. Keith wasn’t going to undervalue Lance by thinking that he would’ve died if Keith hadn’t turned back. But he could have. Even if it was only a small possibility, he could have, and Keith would have never forgiven himself.

After they’d defeated all the ships and flown back home, Lance had turned to him and said “Thanks. You really saved my ass back there!” and patted him on the back, grinning in relief. There’d been a cut on the upper left corner of his cheek and Keith hadn’t been able to look away.

At first, Keith hadn’t known what he was feeling. It definitely wasn’t happiness at being acknowledged. And then, after Allura reprimanded him for abandoning their mission, he realized.

He was angry at himself because he had made a mistake and Lance hadn’t called him out on it. Instead of yelling at him, Lance had forgiven him the moment he had arrived to help him fight. 

He had wanted Lance to yell at him. He had wanted Lance to tell him how badly he fucked up, so that he could apologize and promise to do better. So he could make up for it.

Sitting on Lance’s— _ their _ —bed and trying not to cry at Lance’s face, struggling with the weight of his confusion and anxiety but trying to stay strong for Keith, gave him the same feeling.

“I lied to you.”

He wanted Lance to scream at him. He wanted him to be mad.

Lance covered his hand over Keith’s, entwining their fingers. He skimmed his thumb over Keith’s knuckles reassuringly, his breathing becoming slightly laboured, and Keith saw how he swallowed to try and control it.

Keith wanted to look down, but he couldn’t. It wouldn’t be fair to Lance. 

“I’m not your boyfriend.”

Fuck, what was he doing? He hadn’t even told Shiro this. He tried to wrack his head for an excuse, but he knew there wasn’t any his brain would think of that would work. A part of him needed this. He needed to tell someone the truth. He just hadn’t wanted that person to be Lance.

“Um,” Lance laughed dryly, eyes darting around the room before landing back on Keith. His pupils were dilated. “If you haven’t noticed, we live together. You moved in with me. And we had sex. And you called me your boyfriend.” He leaned forward and Keith scrambled back, snatching his hand back from Lance’s. Lance slumped forward slightly, alarmed and hurt.

He had to say it before he fucked anything else up. He had to go home and get this world’s Keith back, Lance’s boyfriend, Shiro and Pidge and Hunk’s friend. 

“I’m not—I’m not Keith. I mean, I am Keith. But I’m from another universe, where we—we pilot these mechanical lions and we can form this—”

“Keith.” Lance looked at him, dumbfounded. “Do you have a list of drugs you’re on with you?”

Keith stared back and the all too familiar feeling of sickness crept further up his throat. “What?”

“You’re having, I don’t know, hallucinations or something,” Lance said quickly, slipping off the bed and picking up the bag of Keith’s discharge items. “It must be a side effect of one of the drugs.” His words were clipped and tight, saddened even if he thought Keith was making it up.

“I’m not hallucinating,” Keith raised his voice and Lance looked sharply over his shoulder, eyes wide. Keith tried to take a deep breath, but it came out as an unsteady choke that stretched through to his lungs, smothering any coherent thoughts and leaving him breathless. “I’m telling the truth.”

“Sure,” Lance said back, tone nothing short of terrified. He opened up the bag and started taking out the medication Keith had been prescribed. He already knew that there was nothing that caused hallucinations or anything even remotely similar, and he was sure Lance knew that too.

And yet he checked every bottle anyways, squinting at the fine print before shoving it aside. There were a dozen opened, checked, and confirmed bottles after a few moments and Lance ran a hand through his hair, groaning. His other fingers dug into his arm. Keith wanted to stand up, reach out and tug it back, but he knew he couldn’t, not when he couldn’t even move.

When Lance didn’t say anything, Keith continued, a tumble of words before he could even consider what he was saying. All his instincts told him was that he had to stop lying.

“I’m from another universe. Not—I mean, I’m still Keith. My name is Keith, and I look like Keith, and I’m a pilot too, but I’m 19, and we’re not dating. We’re just friends, and we weren’t even friends for a long time—” Lance’s hand dragged down to his face and he ducked his head. “—We were fighting in, uh, space, and I sacrificed myself, I guess. For you guys. And I don’t know what happened after, but the last thing I remember was… was floating through space and choking, and then I passed out, and—”

Lance turned around slowly. “You woke up here. Is that what you’re about to say?”

Keith closed his mouth immediately. Lance’s shoulders were tensed and Keith noticed the way his leg twitched to keep himself balanced. “Lance,” he said, feeling like he was suffocating. “Sit down.”

“No!” Lance snapped. “Just answer the question!”

He should’ve just told Lance what he told Shiro. He should’ve told Pidge the truth, or even Hunk. Shiro and Lance weren’t objective enough to help him. He’d fucked up again. Why couldn’t he stop—

“Keith!” Lance dropped his hands, balling them at his sides. “Please. Just… answer it.”

“Yes,” Keith said, and Lance shook his head in reply, shutting his eyes. “I woke up here and… you kissed me, and I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t want to hurt you. I thought I’d just fall back asleep and wake up in—in my own world. Like a dream, but I’m still here, and I don’t know what’s going on and I want to go home.”

“Because dating me is that bad? Is this because you want to break up with me?”

Keith blinked, then forced his legs to work, scrambling off the bed. “Fuck, no, Lance. That’s not what I said. I’m not… I’m not even your boyfriend! I’m not even from this universe!”

“You look like my boyfriend. You talk like my boyfriend. You act like my boyfriend. What was that saying? If it walks like a duck, swims like a duck, and talks like a duck, then it is a duck?”   


Keith didn’t even have it in him to correct him.

“I waited a month for you to wake up! A month where I—I had no idea if you’d live or die or whether it’d be my fault for not saving you in time! A month where I had to fucking plan out what would happen with  _ our  _ friends if you died! And I know… I know it hasn’t been that great the past few days but you just woke up and I don’t even know why you’ve been discharged when there’s obviously something wrong still! Whatever’s wrong, we can fix it, but please… please don’t make things up.”

Lance sniffled and he tried to wipe his face, but the tears wouldn’t stop. Keith bit down on his lip hard enough to draw blood.

“I love you and, and you love me.” Lance lowered his voice, barely a whisper through his tears. “I don’t know why you’re doing this but we… we can get through it.” His hiccup interrupted his words, hoarse and broken up between sobs.

Keith inched his fingers over his sides, not knowing whether to move forward or stay in front of the bed, watching. He couldn’t make that choice right now. He didn’t know how to make any choices right now. “I don’t want to lie anymore. I know… I know it seems like I… I’m making it up, but I—I can’t do this, Lance. I can’t stay here but I don’t know how to go home. I want to bring your Keith back.” He tried to keep his words firm, unwavering, but it seemed like every other word he stuttered. 

Lance kept shaking his head, slowly sinking down until he was on the floor, rubbing his arms against his face and stifling his crying by trying to keep his mouth shut, but it all came out when he spoke back. “You’re from another universe,” he mumbled. “And we’re breaking up.”

Keith took one step forward, then another, and another, until he was standing in front of Lance. He kneeled down in front of him, not touching him, but he knew what it was like to be alone, crying, and losing the most important person in your life.

He wanted to say it again.  _ I’m not your boyfriend.  _ He wanted to prove it, somehow. But the way Lance flinched when Keith sat down made him rethink it.

“Help me,” he whispered. “If… if I’m having hallucinations, it won’t matter. If it’s just the amnesia, then… it won’t matter, and once I get better, it’ll be back to normal.” Lance coughed. The tears leaked through his fingers and Keith regarded every one, not letting himself look away. “Please, Lance.”

Lance recoiled at his name, and Keith instinctively tried to reach out for him, but Lance was already standing up. “I need… I have to go to class.”

Keith followed him and stood up, unsure of where the floor met the walls. Everything was dizzy and blurry, the furniture melting into each other like blobs in his vision. The only thing he could see properly was Lance. “Just listen to me!”

Lance gathered his things. His coat, from where it was thrown across the pillows on the bed, his bag which was by the floor, something on the table that he shoved in his pocket. “I said I need to go!” he yelled, moving towards the door.

He was going to throw up, he was sure of it. On the floor, on himself, and it would be like being buried in his own shame. “Lance—!”

Lance slammed the door behind him, so hard that it made the frame rattle.

Somehow, being yelled at hadn’t given him the closure that he had expected. Maybe it was because this wasn’t his Lance; or maybe it was because he had actually done something irrevocably awful this time.

He tilted his head back, allowing the few tears that had accumulated in his eyes leak out. Down his cheeks and over his clothes, staining Lance’s shirt that he was wearing. Every step felt like his feet were being pressed against an exposed wire, but he managed to reach the bed without collapsing.

He wasn’t allowed to collapse. He wasn’t allowed to cry or feel bad, not when he was the cause.

Grabbing the portable, it took him a moment to pull the cover open. He clasped his hands, trying to get them to stop shaking.

Focus. He had to focus. He had to get the other Keith back, the real one. He would be able to fix things.

It’d felt like, until earlier, that he had been living in some kind of dream, or warped reality. Universe travelling didn’t exist, and even though he’d slapped himself to try and wake up, he hadn’t fully believed that this was his reality.

Now, he knew without a doubt, that Lance was real.

_ Sent July 27, 21XX to Hunk, Katie: You guys can come over now. _

He tapped every key with individual precision. He wasn’t about to fuck up typing now.

After a moment, he got a reply.

_ Sent July 27, 21XX from Hunk: Sweet. Coming now _

He dropped the portable on the bed and fell back against the mattress, rubbing his face with his hands. The first step was to stop crying. Keith wasn’t a crier; it wasn’t that he saw it as a weakness, it was just something he didn’t do. He’d cried so few times in his life he could count it with his fingers. He curled his bottom lip inwards and forced himself to think about anything else, anything but Lance and this world to stop.

He didn’t know the equivalent of time that had passed in his world, but five days was more than enough time to recover her pieces. Allura and Coran had fixed their castle in even less time than that. The fact that she hadn’t protested to his choice to go in, but reassured him, had meant that she knew she’d be fine. 

He missed her, though. Not only her, but the others. In a way, he felt homesick, even if Earth was his home. Now he understood how Lance felt about his family. He dearly wanted to go home, not just to fix things, but to be able to selfishly curl up in a ball between his friends, or inside of Red. 

The thought had to be dismissed, though. There was no pity for him.

The second step was to wash his face and get rid of the evidence. That meant making sure his face was clear and the pill bottles that Lance had taken out were back in their proper place. 

It also meant getting up, which Keith wasn’t sure he would’ve been able to do for himself, if not for the idea that he was sure Lance would be embarrassed if anyone found out about their conversation from anyone other than him.

He screwed the caps back onto the bottles, then tucked them back into the bag. He’d have to take most of them soon. It was getting late, and he figured Lance would prefer if he did it before he got back rather than after.

Anything to not remind him of their situation. Of what Lance thought was either him telling the truth, having taken over his boyfriend’s body; or him, still sick and not getting the care he needed from the medbay. He didn’t mind if Lance ignored it, if that’s what made him feel better. As long as he could get the information he needed.

The monitor they had given him when he was discharged was just as tight around his wrist still. He fingered it, the cool metal scraping against his skin. It didn’t beep, but the front showed his vital signs at all times in a dim white light. His blood pressure had risen drastically in the past few hours.

He washed the dried tear tracks away with cold water, then gently patted his face until it was back to its normal colour. Relative to his situation, that was. He still looked like shit, just more like he had somewhat of his life together rather than none of it.

The third step was to find a lead. A proper lead, not just bits and pieces of the past. He had to look towards the future. What motive did the other him have for crashing the ship? Lance said he had tried to save him. 

If he could just find the one, big thing he was missing, then he was sure that everything would make sense, and then he could go home. 

“Keith? You here?”

Keith slung the towel back over the rack and took slow, but stable, steps to the door. “Yeah, I’m here. Let yourself in, I can’t walk very well.” He sat down on the bed and then climbed to the side facing the door, propping up his knees to his chest.

Hunk opened the door and his smile was a sight for sore eyes. He remembered, back when they had first became a team and began learning how to form Voltron, how Hunk had hugged him and declared him as his friend. Hunk had never been ashamed to say he liked Keith, and Keith wasn’t ashamed to say he appreciated it. 

For a moment, when Hunk pulled him into a hug, he forgot he wasn’t at home.

“Lance gone out?” Hunk quipped, sitting down after realising him. He threw his arm over Keith’s back and grazed up and down, big thumb pressing down, and he knew instantly that Hunk was silently trying to calm his obvious tautness.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “We fought.”

“Aw, man.” Hunk sighed. “Whatever it is, you guys can work through it. You’re the tightest couple I know.” Keith didn’t miss how Hunk didn’t ask him what had happened. 

He stared down at his toes. “That’s what he said too.”

Hunk’s smile faltered a little, but it stayed on his lips, if not only slightly. Keith didn’t know how he did it. “I haven’t been here in forever,” Hunk said, gazing around the room. “Lance didn’t let anyone in here while you were out of it.”

“Why?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

“He didn’t want anyone to touch your stuff.” Hunk stopped on the pictures that were hanging on the wall. 

Keith sighed, covering his face with his arms. Hunk ruffled up his hair. He’d never done that in his world to him. It felt odd, but comforting, in a strange way. Lance had done it to him too a couple of times in the past few days. 

“Once I heard you got discharged, I felt like something was kind of sketchy, so I looked up a bit on the drugs they’d been giving you.” Hunk kept his hand in Keith’s hair. Keith didn’t mind; he didn’t particularly want to feel alone again. “There’s one that I didn’t know. Katie didn’t, either. It must be experimental, but they never told us about it. I guess they went ahead and gave it to you without asking since you don’t have a legal guardian.”

Keith closed his eyes, listening closely to Hunk’s voice and the constant assurance of his breathing. 

“It doesn’t look unsafe or anything, just weird. It must’ve helped speed up your recovery, which is… good? But like, it doesn’t look like it’s been used enough in trials to figure out the side effects.”

“Don’t,” Keith breathed out, and Hunk’s hand in his hair tightened slightly before drawing back downwards to his back again. “Don’t… tell Lance.”

He didn’t want to give Lance the idea that he was hallucinating. He wasn’t. Just like he knew this world was real, he knew his own was as well. His universe was more familiar to him than even the body he was in.

“You think he’s going to worry? … He’ll worry either way.”

Keith licked his lips. “I don’t want to give him justification for it.”

Hunk shrugged, his shoulders brushing against Keith’s. “Your choice,” he said in a way that made Keith feel like he was making the wrong decision.

But he wasn’t lying, just withholding information. And this was decidedly a good idea. Nothing useful would come out of Lance thinking that Keith was making things up, for the both of them.

“I brought you some more food.” Hunk nudged a cute, pink bag that was sitting on the floor by his feet. He hadn’t even noticed Hunk had been carrying anything when he walked in. “Enough to last a few days, at least. Depends on how much of it Lance eats.”

Keith laughed shortly, turning his head so he could look at Hunk from underneath the curtain of his bangs. “Thanks, Hunk.”

Hunk glanced back at him and the grin was back. It was different from Lance’s, Keith noticed. Both of them were full of love and affection, but Lance looked like he was admiring Keith when he smiled, like he was mapping out his face in his head and memorizing the look he gave him when he smiled. Hunk’s was warm, as if he was trying to brighten up the room with it and envelop everyone in it.

“Anytime, man.” Hunk grabbed the bag and pulled it onto his lap. The hand on Keith’s back moved, but Hunk shifted closer so their legs touched. He wondered if Hunk was doing it on purpose, being able to see that Keith was upset and wanting to keep him company.

Fuck. But he hadn’t wanted him to know he was upset. Hunk had walked in and Keith had forgotten all about his plans of acting natural. He wasn’t worried about Hunk telling anyone, or acting weird to Lance. It was more for his guilty conscious that he felt like he owed Lance not to tell anyone.

“It’ll be fine,” Hunk said, pulling out a container from the bag. It was a dark red and he felt his heart tinge at seeing the colour. It was everywhere. On his towels, splayed over the room like a signature, and now in his damn food. All it did was remind him of his Lion. “Here, have one of these. Your favourite.”

He pulled the top off of the container and pulled out some kind of sweet. It was a dark brown with cute, multi-coloured sprinkles. He had no idea what it was, but he reached out for it and took it anyways. It was a gift from someone who was achingly close to his friend. He would’ve taken anything Hunk had given him.

“Thanks,” he said again, then brought it to his mouth and took a bite. It was some kind of… cake, maybe chocolate, but with a mixture of something denser to hold it together. It was good, and the sugar made his tired body instantly feel just the slightest bit better, especially after what felt like ages on a diet of only salads and liquids. “‘S good.”

“Uh, duh,” Hunk chuckled and took one for himself. “I spent like three hours perfecting them, so they better be.”

They ate in silence, Hunk taking a couple more as Keith nibbled on his one. There were things that shaped him in this world that he didn’t even know about. Like the candies Pidge had given him and now the sweets that were apparently his favourite. 

Hunk covered the box again after he took his third one. The stick hung out of his mouth and Keith snickered, dropping his legs to the floor, finally feeling less stiff. His legs twinged at the movement, but it felt good on his bones after being curled up for so long.

The quiet was nice. He’d hated it in his room at the medbay, but with someone around, he didn’t mind it nearly as much.

He wasn’t going to get attached, he’d already promised himself that, and now he had even more incentive not to with Lance upset and hurt because of him. But he could allow himself moments like these to calm himself down. Sitting with someone who cared for him, grounding him and helping him to clear his thoughts so that he could work harder and better later.

Eventually, the door creaked open again and Lance trudged through, coat wrapped around his hips. “Um.” He looked tiredly between Hunk and Keith. “Am I interrupting something?”

Hunk pulled the stick out of his mouth. The cake on the end was gone; as Keith had thought, it was only there to occupy his mouth. He’d never be able to repay Hunk for how much effort he was putting into making Keith comfortable, except for maybe bringing the real Keith back. “Nope. Just came by to check on how our good friend Keith was doing.”

Lance nodded slowly. “O-kay,” he said, slipping his things down onto the floor. “I’m going to shower.” 

He brushed past them and headed to the bathroom. The door shut softly, but Keith heard a click as he locked the door. Hunk shrugged. “Let him cool off for a bit.”

“I’ll try,” Keith answered honestly. And he really, really would.

Hunk slid off the bed, leaving the bag behind. “I’ll try and come tomorrow, if things are good. Just message me.”

Keith nodded and then, after a second, reached out and grabbed Hunk’s hand. In the background, he heard the shower turn on. “Thank you, Hunk. Really.”

Hunk’s eyes crinkled when he smiled. “You’re my pal. That’s what friends do. Anytime.”

After bidding their goodbyes, Hunk left, and Keith got up after to close the door properly. The latch was a slightly altered version than he had had in his room at the Academy. Instead of having to manually tie it, it locked with a single press of a button. He wished that all of these small technological advances were actually helpful.

While Lance showered, he looked through the things Hunk had brought them. There were two containers of those cake popsicles, and each row was a different colour, which he assumed meant that they were different types of batter as well. There were a few dishes he didn’t know the names of, but they had copious amounts of peppers, which he knew Lance adored. Keith had seen Hunk make similar dishes in his world.

The rest was an assortment of basic foods like plain pasta and grilled chicken. It was an impressive mixture of things Keith liked and stuff that didn’t require a lot of energy for him to chew. Hunk clearly hadn’t skimped in thinking of what he would need. He didn’t even want to imagine how much time Hunk had put into preparing this for them, and it’d only been a day or two.

He surveyed the containers once they were all laid out on the bed. He didn’t even know if they had enough room for all of it in the fridge. Maybe Lance would eat some now; he hadn’t seen him eat earlier and he had a feeling that food hadn’t been on the forefront of his mind.

As he looked over the containers, though, something occurred to him.

They were all red.

Which was his favourite colour, and yes, it reminded him of Red, his Lion, but more importantly, it gave him an idea.

Adrenaline gave him the energy to get up again and shove all of the perishable items into the fridge. He left some of it out for Lance, then sat back down on the bed and pulled out his portable.

The Lions. Why hadn’t he thought of that while they were talking earlier? If he could find Blue and show her to Lance, he’d have to believe him. The connection would be inevitable. He couldn’t think of a single universe, spanning millions, where they didn’t choose each other. 

He opened up the internet browser and typed in the coordinates where he knew she was. He’d memorized them, after months of slaving over documents, maps, and books. The numbers were practically etched into the coding in his brain. The map on the screen showed the same cave area he’d brought their team to years ago. It looked exactly the same.

Biting the inside of his cheek to stop himself from smiling, he waited until Lance came out of the bathroom.

“I can prove it to you,” he said as Lance walked over to the kitchen counter, peering into one of the containers.

“What?” 

“I can prove to you that what I said was real.”

Lance’s whole body sunk forward. “Keith, not now. Can we just… cuddle and then sleep? You’ll feel better the more you rest.”

Keith looked down at the screen. She had to be there. He couldn’t feel the pull like he had when he lived in the desert, but he just knew it. She was close, waiting for them.

“Fine. Come over here and cuddle while you listen to me,” he retorted. Lance eventually opted for one of the cake popsicles. For an instant, Keith thought Lance was going to leave again. He wouldn’t have blamed him, but he needed this. They both needed this, desperately. 

Lance shifted and they met eyes over Keith’s portable. Lance’s hair was still wet from the water, and his pyjamas were just as fluffy and cozy as Keith had seen from his world. Keith instantly felt bad for calling them cute in his head, even if it was a compliment.

“Alright.” Lance bit into the cake popsicle and walked over, lying down beside Keith on the bed. He was an inch away, which felt like miles further than they had been earlier. He touched their knees, though, and Keith curled his toes against the mattress at the shock of Lance near him. 

“Show me.”

And for the first time since he had woken up, Keith thought there was actually a chance of him going home. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am so sorry for today's late chapter! i had a really tough day today and couldn't get around to writing until the evening. it's 12:35 am here, which means i missed my self-imposed deadline of getting a chapter out each day... :'( but i hope the length makes up for it!
> 
> i'm actually going on vacation for the next two weeks, so i'd love to know if you guys would prefer shorter, more frequent updates (this would increase the amount of chapters in the story) or longer, less frequent updates. i'm leaning towards the first option, but let me know what you think!
> 
> i also learned that apparently every time i edit a chapter in this fic, it sends people who are subscribed to it an email that i updated? i've been going back and editing typos and weirdly structured sentences after i post the chapters, so i'm sorry if you've gotten like five emails in the span of ten minutes because of this orz
> 
> i know i'm behind on replying to comments, but i promise ive read every single one and they all make me tear up a little with happiness ;_;
> 
> thank you so much to everyone who has been reading, kudos'd, subscribed, bookmarked, commented, and everything in between!! as always, tell me your theories and thoughts below! :D
> 
> talk to me on tumblr! http://diakurosawa.tumblr.com


	10. Chapter 10

“So… what I’m getting out of this.... is basically that I never actually become a real pilot.”

“That’s not what I sa—”

“Relax. I’m just joking,” Lance cut him off, sounding significantly more tired after Keith didn’t take his humour well.

Keith looked at the time on the corner of the portable. 1:34 AM. He'd been explaining for hours to Lance about his life, both of their lives, down to every detail that he could remember. And, amazingly, Lance was actually listening. His eyes were big, watching Keith, and he hung onto every word, humming in acknowledgement when appropriate.

When he had started to talk about his last fight, where Red had ejected him, he realized that Lance was trying to let him vent, despite how painful it was for him to have to hear Keith talk as if he wasn’t his boyfriend.

“It’s all true,” he said for the umpteenth time that night. “I’ll bring you to Blue… your lion, and you’ll see.”

Lance shifted closer. He’d been progressively moving closer and closer while Keith was talking, until Keith had no choice but to lean against him. Which probably had been Lance’s plan all along. Keith had said that they could cuddle, though, and he didn’t want to see another long-suffering pained look on Lance’s face that would inevitably happen if he rejected him.

“Besides, I think flying inside of a lion is cooler than flying a Garrison ship,” Keith muttered.

Lance laughed softly, pressing his soft cheek against Keith’s shoulder. “It’s not true.”

Keith grit his teeth. “Lance,” he said slowly. “I just said that I can prove it to you. Once I can move my legs properly, I’ll fly us there.”

“No, no, no way. You aren’t flying anywhere for at least a month.” Lance lifted his head and the pads of his thumbs brushed over the corner of Keith’s lips. “I don’t care what you need to prove. You’re still recovering. You just woke up four days ago! Aren’t your muscles supposed to be broken down still? No one wakes up from a coma and just walks around the next day!”

Keith frowned and Lance instantly grazed his finger over it, sighing. Keith shook his hand off and turned his head away, mumbling, “You said you would listen.”

Lance’s touch on him faltered, but after a moment, he pressed closer. He grabbed one of Keith’s hands and guided it off the portable, letting it drop to his lap. Lance’s fingers fit perfectly in his own, and he squeezed, making Keith’s breath catch in his throat. “I am listening. God, Keith, I’ve been listening this whole time, but I—it’s hard! It’s hard to listen to my boyfriend tell me all the reasons why he’s not my boyfriend.”

Keith looked back at him, observing the way Lance blinked, how he squeezed his eyes shut for just a second too long. The rims of his pupils were red and a pink tinge spread over his cheeks as he tried not to cry. 

“You’re my boyfriend,” Lance said, voice heavy with emotion. “I don’t… I don’t know why you don’t think that, but you’re my boyfriend.”

He’d pondered on the first day how odd it was that it was Lance, of all of his friends, that he was dating in this universe. But now, he couldn’t imagine it as any other way, not with how passionately Lance was trying to win him over. His boyfriend.

It was more than a little unfair.

“I don’t want to hurt you anymore,” he enunciated carefully. Eyes opening, Lance’s whole face seemed to tighten with the idea that Keith wasn’t doing this on purpose. “I don’t know if I can give you what you want.”

“I asked you out.” Lance’s lips moved slowly, like he was processing every word through his head before speaking. That was rare for the both of them. “And you said yes. And then you asked me if we were dating. And I said yes. We’re dating. And… and even if you forgot that, I’ll just have to work harder to make you remember.”

Keith exhaled a breath he didn’t know he was holding. The tears in Lance’s eyes threatened to spill, teetering on the edge of his lids, but he crinkled his nose and forced them back. 

“I’ll go see the lion or whatever it is.” He ran his hand over the back of Keith’s head, carding his fingers through his hair, and god, Lance had to know that it was one of his weak spots. He closed his eyes, listening to the way Lance’s voice rumbled into a whisper. “But you’re still my boyfriend.”

This was bad. Keith wanted to pulls his head away from Lance’s hand, but something stopped him. Lance’s fingers rubbed against his scalp and Keith stilled, body slumping; feeling out of place but not wrong.

“I never…” Keith forced his eyes open, trying to keep his gaze on Lance’s through his fringe, but he was stressed, warm, and tired all at once. A small part of him was happy, because Lance was still beside him, which meant there was a chance that he would help him.

Even if Lance just kept entertaining the idea, humoring Keith and not really believing it, it would give Keith the opportunity to take him to Blue. And then he’d have no choice but to believe him. He knew Lance well enough to know that.

A larger part of him, though, was exhausted with guilt. He shouldn’t be happy. He shouldn’t feel good when Lance touched him. It wasn’t supposed to be for him, and Lance still didn’t understand that.

“I’ve never dated anyone,” he continued.

Lance snorted, a small puff of air that Keith felt over the bridge of his nose. “See how fucked up that is? We’re dating right now, we’ve been dating for a year, and you say that with a straight face.”

Keith did, in fact, see how fucked up it was. Very well.

“I’m just warning you,” Keith muttered, not being able to help the annoyance that crept into his words. He wouldn’t lose his temper, but it was frustrating. Lance had to see that.

Lance’s fingers in his hair never slowed to a stop, even when when Keith spoke roughly. “Warning noted. Warning dismissed.”

He reached over to Keith’s lap, picking up his portable and dumping it on one of the bedside tables. “I’m not done,” Keith protested, but he knew it was futile. Lance wanted him to rest, and he couldn’t deny the way sleep threatened to drag his eyelids down. “We’re continuing this tomorrow,” he corrected quickly.

“Okay, but it’s over for now.” Lance waved his hand and the lights turned off. That was new. With the blinds on the windows drawn closed, the room is dark, the air static between them. Lance gently pushed on his shoulders until he was lying back on the mattress. 

Keith sought out his face in the darkness. His eyes struggled to adjust, but he could see the edges of Lance’s face, sharp and worried. 

Lance laid down beside him on his side, throwing his arm over Keith’s stomach. His fingers played with the hem of Keith’s shirt, rubbing his sides from over the fabric. He could feel Lance moving his fingers in methodical circles, trying to coax him to relax.

In a way, he thought that maybe Lance was trying to prove their intimacy to him, by choosing to touch all the spots that he knew would make Keith’s breath hitch. Even Keith didn’t know half of them.

“There’s others, too,” Keith murmured, and there was a rustle as jolted back, startled by the sound of his voice speaking up again.

“Keith—” Lance started, but Keith didn’t feel bad about cutting him off this time.

“We met a princess… Allura. Her kingdom is… gone, I guess, everyone died except for her and her advisor, Coran. You tried to hit on her, but she rejected you. Hard.” He could remember it easily, a fond memory that swept lazily into his mind through his drowsiness. He could recall the shock that he had felt when Allura and Coran had fallen out of their pods; how his first instinct had been to fight. He was glad he hadn’t. He remembered everyone’s reactions, too, to a T. Pidge’s surprise, Hunk’s confusion, Shiro’s worry. The way Lance and Coran had fooled around from the moment they met. “You’re friends now. We all are.”

Lance’s fingers stopped against his waist, and Keith carried on speaking when Lance didn’t quiet him. “We weren’t friends… for a while. Or, there was a part of me that was trying to stop it from happening. I don’t know, I—You always called me your rival, and I considered it one-sided on your part. But it was me who was stopping us from becoming closer.”

Lance’s hand drew up to his upper back, tugging him closer. The manner that Lance held him made Keith feel like he was a teddy bear, something which was significantly more cuddly and affectionate than Keith had ever been. “We became friends, eventually. And when I… I was ejected into space, you and Pidge both turned around to reach for me. I think you reached out to me, but I closed my eyes before I saw.”

“I would have,” Lance insisted. “I would’ve jumped out for you.”

Keith laughed. It felt good to do so, making his vision and brain tingle with amusement. He was debating his own death with an alternate version of one of his closest friends, who he was dating. It was weird. It was funny. He was pretty sure he’d gone off the deep end.

“That’s not how it works.”

“I don’t care.” Lance buried his face against the top of Keith’s head. “I would’ve gone out and grabbed you.”

He’d like to think that. He’d considered the thought that he had died in his own universe, but it didn’t fit in with his theory that this world’s Keith had swapped places with him. But if he was alive, it had to mean that Lance or Pidge had saved him, which meant either that they had gotten out of their Lions, or performed some extravagant feat of psychics that Keith hadn’t thought of yet. “You're biased.”

“Hell yeah I am,” Lance answered, not denying it in the slightest. Keith wondered how Lance could be so proud of being in love with someone who insisted that they didn’t love him back.

No, that wasn’t true. He did love Lance, just not in the same way.

Lance went silent and so did Keith, getting lost in the thoughts of home again. It seemed to happen the most at night, when it was there was a mum in the room and he was able to reflect. It was different with Lance there, though. He kept him grounded to this world with the breath that spread over his scalp and the back of his neck, sending chills down his spine every other second.

He didn’t know what had compelled him to tell Lance the whole truth when he had only told half of it to Shiro less than twelve hours ago. Shiro was his best friend, and Keith would’ve never hid anything from him in their world. Even his emotions were written on his sleeve for Shiro to notice. 

There was something else expected from him in this world. Shiro was his best friend still, but Lance was his boyfriend, who had been there when he almost died and stayed by his bedside like another limb for a month. It had to be because his guilty conscious felt compelled to spill it, before his logical mind could hold it back again.

He didn’t like that. He knew he was hot-headed. All of his teammates could prove it with a dozen incidences. But he wasn’t stupid, either, and any time his emotions overcame him, it felt like a loss, even if the results this time had been relatively good.

If he focused, he swore he could feel Blue calling to him. She was there. Far away, yes, but she was there, and he knew she had to be waiting for Lance. Even if they couldn’t find Allura and Coran or the other Lions, they didn’t need to. He didn’t want to start an intergalactic war in a universe that was peaceful. He didn’t even want to wake Blue. All he needed was for Lance to take one look and put his mind to understanding. 

Lance had understood in his world. He could learn to understand in this one too, even with all of the extra baggage.

Eventually, Lance’s breathing evened out, and one of his legs slid in between Keith’s. It was true cuddling. Keith had never done this with anyone, not even Shiro, not even when he had stayed with him when they were young and they had to share a bed. Lance was like a furnace. Keith could feel his arms slick with sweat, underlining his stress.

No attachment, he reminded himself. Not like that. But a little comfort wouldn’t hurt.

Cautiously, he moved his hand to Lance’s back, stroking up and down sluggishly. Lance’s breathing came out quick and labored and Keith knew he must be having a nightmare. He wondered if it was something like death, about falling into space like Keith had; or if it was about them breaking up, Keith laughing in his face and saying he had never loved him.

He wet his lips out of anxiety. He didn’t want to be the cause of Lance’s nightmares. 

He’d meant it, when he said he wanted to make things right. He didn’t like making mistakes in anything. Flying, fighting, or otherwise. His teammates had learned how to keep him relatively humble, but making so many mistakes wasn’t something he liked to face about himself. 

He didn’t want to be the weak, overly emotional orphan boy that was deemed too hostile to stay in the Academy, but he was acting like that person. He despised that. He’d fight it tooth and nail.

Lance sighed in his sleep, squeezing Keith so tightly that the air was knocked out of him. He didn’t fight back.

Falling asleep with Lance wasn’t as uncomfortable as he thought it would be. It was easy to fall into the same rhythm as Lance’s breathing, until his imagination went muddy and dull from sleep.

When he woke up the next morning to Lance’s alarm, he wasn’t at all surprised that his back was pressed to Lance’s chest, his calmed breath fanning over Keith’s back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, tomorrow starts the 2 weeks of irregular updates. :( but i will be on tumblr a lot so feel free to msg me there! i just won't be able to write enough to put out chapters every day.
> 
> the theories everyone left on the last chapter were really really interesting! :P we'll just have to see who's right.
> 
> thank you everyone who commented, kudos'd, subscribed, bookmarked, etc! i love all of you so much i don't even know how to put it into words lol
> 
> talk to me on tumblr! http://diakurosawa.tumblr.com


	11. Chapter 11

“Lance, you need to go to class,” Keith murmured as gently as he could muster.

Lance rubbed his cheek to Keith’s back, mumbling a petulant “no” against the fabric of his shirt. Keith shut his eyes and sighed as Lance held onto him like a vice, arms wound so tightly around his middle that he was sure Lance could feel the contractions of his stomach underneath. It growled hungrily and Keith winced, trying to look over his shoulder.

“Come on. I’m hungry,” he said pointedly, and he saw Lance lift his head and pout.

Keith had expected his confession to slow Lance down. In reality, Lance’s method was to smother Keith in his affection until he was drowning in it, reminding him of their very apparent relationship status.

“I’ll get you food.” Lance kissed the back of his head and then reluctantly sat up, arms stretching over his head. He stretched full-body, his feet twisting, and Keith almost mourned the loss of Lance’s warmth beside him.

Almost. He’d gotten used to it over the course of the night, because it had been difficult to sleep and he’d spent most of it awake and staring at the ceiling, but he reminded himself: no attachment. He could ask Lance to cuddle with him when he got home. His Lance.

“They’re going to notice you’re skipping.” Keith lifted the pillow Lance left behind and propped it up against the headboard, then sat up, resting his back against it. It was still vaguely warm, radiating the heat Lance left behind. “Shiro told me you’ve already skipped at least a dozen classes in the past few weeks.”

“So what?” Lance glimpsed into one of the containers, nose twitching. He shoved it aside and opened the fridge instead, bending over at an angle Keith knew was uncomfortable. He crossed his arms. “They know you’re recovering. They can deal with the fact that I’m a perfect boyfriend.”

Lance pulled out something from the fridge, then two plates.

“Are you going to act like last night didn’t happen?” Keith asked, trying to sound less harsh than what he felt. He didn’t want, and wasn’t going to let, Lance ignore him. Even if Lance hated to acknowledge it, it affected him, too. He doubted Lance would want to be in a relationship with a fake version of his boyfriend, once he came to his senses and had the realization that Keith was telling the truth.

Lance poured some sweet-smelling food onto the plates, pointedly ignoring Keith. He took out two glasses, filling them to the brim with a pink juice.

“Lance.” Keith ground his teeth together.

“I told you I would let you take me to see that lion thing,” Lance started. He carried both plates over, setting one down in front of Keith and the other on the bed for himself. It looked to be some kind of fruit salad. Keith was still amazed at the variety Hunk had been able to think of. “But not right now. Right now, you need to eat, so you can recover.”

“I’m not waiting a month.” He stabbed one of the strawberries with his fork, then immediately felt bad. Lance was worried for him. He was being foolish, yeah, but Keith had to reign his anger in. Lance didn’t do anything to deserve Keith blowing up at him.

“Then we’ll figure something out once you can walk around for more than five minutes without getting dizzy.” Lance slid onto the bed beside him, taking the fork from his grasp and then holding it up for him. The strawberry prodded against his lips, tempting him. Keith scowled but opened his mouth and Lance shoved it inside, smiling back at him.

It didn’t reach his eyes, but his cheeks strained with the effort of keeping it up. He could tell Lance wanted to be happy, to believe that Keith was making it up, but he wasn’t sure of himself.

“I can’t help you if you won’t try and help yourself,” Keith said, and Lance’s hand stilled mid-air as he went to scoop up another piece of fruit.

“What?” Lance asked, eyebrows lifting. The corners of his lips curved downwards and he slipped another strawberry into Keith’s mouth. “You’re the one injured here, not me.”

Keith chewed it slowly, allowing himself time to gather what he wanted to say. Every sentence had to be carefully constructed. He tried to think of his Lance and what he would say to him, but there was no situation even remotely similar to the one that they were in that would give him insight on what to say to make things better. Swallowing, he cleared his throat. “The more you deny it, the more difficult things will be. Don’t you want your boyfriend back?”

Lance dropped the fork, eyes narrowed. The tips of his ears and the apples of his cheeks were flushed, but from anger or embarrassment, Keith didn’t know. Both of those options told Keith that hadn’t been the right thing to say.

“You are my boyfriend.” Lance set his hands on either side of Keith’s shoulders. “We aren’t talking about this like you aren’t my boyfriend. I… I said I’d listen, but that doesn’t change that fact.”

Keith chewed on the inside of his cheek, jaw clenching.

It couldn’t be better to let Lance lie to himself. But he didn’t know how to say it in a way that would make him see that.

“I told you,” Lance continued, grumbling. “We aren’t talking about this while you’re recovering.”

Before Keith could speak up, he grabbed the fork again and brought another piece of fruit to Keith’s mouth.

When Keith didn’t take it, Lance’s shoulders fell. “If you care about me, eat the fruit, Keith.”

Well, he couldn’t not eat it after that.

Saying the rest of their breakfast was awkward would be an understatement. Keith got lost watching Lance’s hand move, back and forth between the plate on his lap to feeding him. It was almost mesmerizing, in a way, aside from a moment where Lance’s hand shook and faltered. He tried to imagine what it was like for him. If he could put himself into Lance’s shoes, convincing him would be infinitely easier.

But that was why Lance had considered him his rival. It was why they piloted Red and Blue, opposites throughout every branch of history. They were complimentary, competitive to the point where they improved each other, but Keith didn’t understand him. Not to the extent that he needed to for this.

He reviewed the events in his head, as Lance. The timeline when this world’s Keith was still in existence was murky, but he could assume that Lance hadn’t known that the ship was going to crash, and he had thought Keith was dead. And then he’d been put in a month long coma, in which Lance had been so afraid and devastated that he had refused to leave Keith’s bedside.

The elation when he had woken up was etched into Keith’s mind vividly. The kiss must’ve been an instinctual reaction, and his rejection would’ve left him confused. And yet, Lance visited him numerous times over the course of the next few days, both crying and laughing, a considerably normal range of emotions. He had broken into his room to drink with him in the wee hours of the morning from sheer love and concern.

Once Lance finished feeding Keith his plate, he began to nibble on his own, but he was slow and quiet, visibly distracted.

Lance had noticed he had been acting weird. That’s why he had asked if they were still together. So why wasn’t he happy that Keith had a reason for it? Why wasn’t he overjoyed that his ‘boyfriend’ who had suddenly fallen out of love wasn’t actually his, that his long-standing love hadn’t suddenly changed?

Lance was determined to ignore what Keith had said, despite the fact that it helped the both of them, including one of Lance’s biggest worries: their relationship.

Lance set the utensils and plates on the foot of the bed, moving as if there were weights dragging him down. Keith sat up further, leaning forward so that he could sit shoulder to shoulder with him.

“Don’t you have class?” Keith asked, gathering every bit of control he had to keep his voice levelled and calm, lest he come off as accusatory.

After a long moment of staring at the space of sheets in between them, Lance pressed his forehead to Keith’s chest. His hair tickled Keith’s chin, soft, smelling vaguely like vanilla and spices that Keith couldn't identify.

“It’s Saturday. That’s why there’s no classes,” Lance deadpanned back to him.

“Oh.” He stifled his retort of _Why didn’t you just tell me that before?_

Keith looked over the top of Lance’s head at the portable that was sitting by their bed. He was instantly reminded of Lance’s messages which he had tried so furiously to block out. Those wouldn’t help him, but there was something else in there that might.

If anyone was going to know this world’s Keith’s passwords, it was Lance. They seemed to share most things, if not everything. Hell, they were students and they lived together. That suggested a lack of privacy already.

He slipped his arm underneath Lance’s and tried to reach for the portable. Lance lifted his head, looking behind him. “What?”

“Portable,” Keith said, still trying to reach for it, if not only to encourage Lance to grab it for him. He did, reluctantly separating from their makeshift hug in order to pass it to him.

“Did you…” Lance began, trailing off when Keith opened the cover of the portable. The light was blinding, and they both stared down.

Keith tapped his finger against the edge of the portable. “Did I?”

“When you spoke to Shiro… were you telling him?”

The _Messages_ icon was still lit up with unread messages. He hadn’t even checked before swiping his finger to see if any of the others had tried to speak to him overnight. “Not the truth.”

“... Right. The truth.”

Keith pressed on the _Diary_ icon. The now-familiar message popped up to him to enter his password and he swivelled the portable around to face Lance, pressing one hand to his knee.

“I told him that I had amnesia. You know that’s not it.”

Lance took the portable in his hands, breathing loud and deep. “He was going to keep it from me? If you hadn’t told me the… truth?”

Crossing his legs, he watched as Lance’s grip tightened. “Lance…”

Lance shut his eyes, lips curling inwards. “What the fuck,” he grumbled under his breath. A slew of uneasiness grew in him, and he rubbed Lance’s knee.

“He told me to tell you myself. He wasn’t going to let me keep it from you. Besides, I told you more than I told him.”

The tension in the air was almost palpable. Keith moved to remove his hand from Lance’s knee, but one of his hands reached out and caught Keith’s, entwining their fingers.

“I know.” He opened his eyes, searching for Keith’s. When they met, Keith was again overwhelmed by the intensity of Lance’s gaze. He looked tired, yes, and discouraged, and all the other negative emotions that Keith knew he had caused, but the most prevalent thing was still his passion. “Sorry.”

There it was again. Why was Lance apologizing? It was something that didn’t fit into the narrative that he had thought of earlier, halting him from being able to see inside Lance’s mind. He wasn’t guilty of anything but existing when this world’s Keith didn’t, and it wasn’t like his Lance to apologize for speaking his mind. He couldn’t imagine it was different for this world’s Lance.

“You don’t need to be sorry,” Keith replied, words far more hurried than he would’ve liked them to come out as. “It’s just frustrating that you don’t believe me.” He had opened up to Lance, which was rare for them back in his universe, even now that they were friends. He wanted to point that out, but Lance wouldn’t understand the weight of it.

Lance shook his hand, then let go to hold onto the portable again. “You don’t know your password?” he asked, and the rapid subject change told Keith that that conversation topic wasn’t going to be continued.

“I tried all of my usual ones. The ones I’d use back home, but none of them worked.”

Lance touched his finger against the keyboard, the asterisks popping up on the screen one by one as he pressed the letters. Keith waited in anticipation as he pressed the enter button, but the next screen was one he’d seen far too many times before.

“I didn’t know you had this.”

That… wasn’t what Keith had been expecting Lance to do. Or say.

“I mean… I knew you had a diary, but I assumed it was a book. And that it wasn’t password protected.”

Lance opened up the password screen again, typing in another combination. It was rejected again.

Scrambling to speak before Lance could get upset, Keith coughed. “That’s why I think there’s something in there that could help me. Us. Maybe figure out why this all happened.”

Lance nodded slowly, but he didn’t look like he agreed. Keith had begun to expect that expression from Lance whenever he mentioned the concept that he wasn’t this world’s Keith, though, and it had only been twelve hours.

“It’ll help the both of us,” Keith reiterated, but Lance shut the cover on the portable and climbed off the bed, dejected.

He took their empty plates to the counter in their tiny kitchen, busying himself with washing them off. The water was on low, a quiet hum. He could hear Lance’s shaky breaths every few seconds.

Lance felt betrayed, perhaps. That this world’s Keith was trying to keep something from him. It went against what Keith had thought about their relationship, but it wasn’t unusual for people to keep their thoughts private. Especially Keith, if he knew anything about himself.

Keith laid back down underneath the duvet. After finishing washing the dishes, Lance crawled in beside him, hugging Keith to his chest and pressing his lips to his arm.

What _was_ unusual, though, was that he was beginning to get used to Lance preferring the silence of his recovery. That was more than a little terrifying, because it meant he was getting used to living in this world, and that was an idea that he couldn't allow himself to entertain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so first of all, i'm so sorry about how long it took to get this out and also about how short it is. :( i was really determined to at least write something long to make up for the wait, but unfortunately i haven't had the time or means in the past few days. it's also 2am right now at the time of posting so my apologies for any grammatical or spelling errors, i'll fix them tomorrow when i'm not half asleep lol
> 
> nonetheless though, i hope you guys enjoy it! <3 as always, let me know what you think in the comments!
> 
> i feel a little guilty for this, and this has absolutely nothing to do with this fic, but one of my cats got injured and the medical bills left a dent in my wallet that i wasn't prepared for. i'm selling some stuff off to get the money back: my [ensemble stars](http://diakurosawa.tumblr.com/post/148652738634/selling-enstars-acct-hello-im-selling-my-enstars) account and then some (mostly love live) cosplay that i'll be putting up tomorrow. if you know anyone who might be interested in buying any of those things, please feel free to message me! 
> 
> and of course, talk to me on tumblr! http://diakurosawa.tumblr.com


	12. Chapter 12

A person’s room said a lot about them.

Keith knew what Lance’s room looked like back in his home. A little messy, with clothes strung over furniture and stacks of photographs and tape recorders thrown over the table, but clean and easy to navigate.

On the other hand, Keith liked to keep his room impeccably tidy, albeit sometimes he was too distracted to organize his things. He tried to keep everything in order, though. With emergencies and invasions having the possibility to happen at any time, he needed to know where his things were, from the weapons tucked hidden in his room to special mementos that he would want to grab in case they couldn’t go back.

His room in this world was a strange mix of his and Lance’s. There was no boundary between their belongings. On one table, the notebooks he had recognized as being his physics notes were mingled among Lance’s. There were two different types of pens in a container off to the side. Half broad, half fine. Their closet had no distinction as to what clothing was Keith’s and what was Lance’s. He could only guess based off of the size of the pants and the weird logos on the shirts which ones were Lance’s.

There was no doubt in Keith’s mind that this world’s Keith and Lance were irreplaceably intertwined with each other. They seemed to share everything. Their living space, obviously. Their hearts. Their thoughts, most of the time.

Which was why Lance had been so upset when Keith had showed him the diary application on the portable. There was something in there that this world’s Keith was trying to hide. And whatever it was, he was sure that it was his key to getting out of this universe.

Lance had left hours ago, citing the need to go grocery shopping, which was the lowest effort excuse Keith had ever heard considering the amount of food Hunk had brought them. He hadn’t stopped him, though. He didn’t want to make Lance angry at him, or crowd him, or make him feel worse than he already did. None of those things helped Keith’s steadily amounting guilt and apprehension at still being aware and alive in this world.

The alone time gave him the opportunity to ransack their room. For clues, hints, anything that could point him in the right direction of unlocking the diary. He somehow managed to drag himself to the desk where the notebooks were, taunting him with how familiar yet strange they were.

It was good, in a way, that Lance hadn’t touched anything in their room since Keith had gone into a coma. The time directly before this world’s Keith had crashed the ship was embed into the room.

Unbidden, the image of Lance lying by his bedside, unwilling to leave him as he slept, appeared in his mind. He shoved it aside and pulled out the seat in front of the desk, setting down carefully, back stretching against the hard wooden back of the chair.

He didn’t fancy rummaging through a pile of notes, but he had to try everything, inspect every nook and cranny, just in case.

The book at the very top appeared to be his most recent notes; the handwriting was hurried, a little messy, but the words were just as concise and in-depth as he had written when he was a student. He skimmed through half the book before the writing ended, but nothing stood out other than how painfully boring the material was.

The next book was Lance’s, which wasn’t much better, only it was somehow even messier than his was. After he went through another three books of his, older and neater and just as useless, he was beginning to lose motivation.

Maybe it wasn’t the notebooks. They were just sitting on the table, after all, and there were at least a dozen of them. If he was going to hide something, it wouldn’t have been in plain sight.

At least, that’s what he had to believe so he wouldn’t end up losing his mind from frustration.

He put the stack of notebooks aside and looked up through the window. Lance must’ve drawn the blinds open before he left. They had a nice view, all things considered, and this world’s Keith must’ve pulled some strings as the best student in the Academy to get it.

The whole idea of him and Lance living together was bizarre. They were practically kids, still, or they could at least be considered naive. He couldn’t imagine the series of events that had lead Shiro to allow them to move in together.

There were lots of little things like that—that were incomprehensible to him. A part of him was genuinely curious and wanted to ask Lance. The smarter part of him told him that Lance didn’t want to talk about their relationship at all, ever, and he should respect that if he wanted to get Lance’s help.

In the end, most of the time, neither part of him won out completely.

Pushing his chair outwards, he opened the drawer on the desk, wincing at the flash of hot pain that came with moving his legs. It was packed to the brim, creaking under the weight of the objects inside of it as he pulled it outwards.

It was mostly extra stationery, bags of pens and a stack of what looked to be extra notebooks. There was a stash of gum that he hoped was Lance’s. Another pile of photographs sat stuffed underneath a heavy case. He took them out, flipping through them and already feeling a bit dizzy. Some of them were repeats that he'd seen before, but many of them were new.

All of them shared a common theme: they were in love. It would’ve been obvious to anyone with eyes. Many of them had Lance staring at him as he laughed, or him jokingly pinching Lance’s cheek, or Lance ruffling his hair.

As a kid, he would watch TV and not understand many of the plotlines that happened in the shows. He got the same feeling from living this life, watching Lance, seeing pictures of himself that weren’t him. It was as if he had been transported into a movie of some sort.

He laid the pictures on the desk, careful not to wrinkle them. At the very back of the drawer was a small wooden box. He took it out and opened it, squinting.

They were pastel post-it notes, and he instantly recognized both his and Lance’s handwriting.

_Don’t overwork yourself._

_It’s your turn for groceries._

_Hey!!!!_

_Overnight trip. Don’t stay up for me. Love you._

_You’re pretty when you sleep, babe._

_Don’t call me that through notes._

He grimaced, closing the box. Like the message from Lance on the portable, he didn’t expect to find any clues in their lovey-dovey post-its, and he didn’t want to peek unnecessarily into their romantic life.

Contrary to his actions, Keith didn’t fancy public displays of affection. Or, in this case, they were private displays of affection. Either way, they were equally as useless and uncomfortable for him.

He leaned back in the chair, sighing. The search through the desk had been thoroughly unproductive, but the disappointment was what caused the lump in his throat. Not only would looking through the rest of the room be physically taxing, having to walk around and get on his still-hurting knees more, but there were so many things scattered that he didn’t know where to begin.

It’d be just his luck that a clue wouldn’t be in the easiest, most obvious place in the room.

He grit his teeth, forcing the feeling of worry away. He should’ve expected it. If he had been the one to initiate the crash, and left clues as to why lying around—which he would’ve—he wouldn’t have made it easy to find. In fact, he probably would’ve made them only discernable to himself.

Because it was pretty clear to Keith that he didn’t plan it out with Lance first. Like—Hey, is it alright if I hijack our ship or some shit and we crash? I might end up in a coma but it’s fine. That wasn’t how it went.

With a hand on the desk to steady himself, he forced himself onto his feet, taking a deep breath. He should’ve probably taken those painkillers. He didn’t want them to kick down his door and try and bring him back to the medbay; or, even worse, have Lance call them.

The closet was the second most obvious place where he would hide something, yet just discreet enough that it was worth looking into.

The issue wasn’t just that he didn’t know what he was looking for, but also that he didn’t know the history behind the things he saw. He dreaded knowing that he might’ve passed over something important, something vital to his life in this world or to his relationship with Lance, and not noticed.

He couldn’t dwell on that, though. He was wasting time thinking, when he should be doing.

One shaky step at a time, he went to the closet, then lowered himself onto the floor, cross-legged, by holding onto the frame of the door. He winced as his legs creaked in pain, but once he came to rest on the carpet, it disappeared.

He pushed the clothes that were on the hangers aside, revealing the stacks of boxes behind them. They were covered in a layer of dust, and he expected to find heaps of clothing that they had outgrown and old, discarded notebooks, shoved inside boxes to never be seen again.

He took a deep breath and rubbed his nose, stifling the urge to sneeze. He had to try. He’d done worse than this, trying to track down the origin of the energy that emitted from the cave where Blue had been. And he’d been alone during that, without his only friend. This was nothing.

If he thought it enough, it would come true.

He pulled down the topmost box, setting it down on the space in front of him. Taking the lid off, inside was a pile of neatly folded jackets and sweaters. He stuck his hand in and felt around the clothing for anything else, but there was only fabric and zippers.

Next box, then.

Except the same thing was in the next one, too: clothing, some shoes, and another box of school supplies that looked like it’d never been touched. The next one was full of just shoes, most of which looked to be Lance’s, worn-out with the fronts covered in cracked and dried mud.

He uncurled from his position and crawled deeper into the closet. The clothing on the hangers brushed overtop of him, but he ended up in the back with a little wiggle room so that he could pick up the last few boxes.

Lots of jackets. Old school uniforms, one emblazoned with the junior pilot logo in the front. Keith remembered it from his world, too. It’d been given to him after his first semester, a special jacket for a special kid, they’d said. The further down and closer to the wall he went with the boxes, the older the items inside got. He found a jacket that was far too big for either of them in one of the last few boxes. Shiro’s, probably, or maybe it was Lance’s and Hunk’s. He threw it out into the space in front of the closet to give back to them. Not that they most likely remembered, considering the dated age of the other items in the box.

Last one. He licked his lips, feeling a strange mixture of anticipation and dread, before he placed it securely on his lap.

More clothing. More shoes. He picked up overalls that looked like they were fitted for a baby. Okay, not exactly helpful to his case, but intriguing in the same way that he was curious about the differences of his world’s Lance and this Lance. He threw it outside with the jacket and continued on. Some more old notebooks, which he flipped through quickly, but many of them were notes, or simply blank.

He drew out the last piece of clothing near the bottom of the box and held his breath. A part of him hoped that he’d done enough good things in life to warrant getting just a hint, just a small nudge in the right direction, as to what was going on with his strange existence.

Instead, he got a bag of dull pencils.

It took a lot of willpower not to simply throw the box at the wall. Instead, he methodically placed every article of clothing and every item back into the box before gently putting it aside.

And then he slammed his head against the wall, screwing his eyes shut and wincing. Fuck.

Almost a week, and he was still stuck here. Almost a week, and he wasn’t even a single step closer to figuring out what had happened or how to leave.

It wasn’t the same as being kicked out of the Academy. He was living someone else’s life. It wasn’t even in the same universe.

He wanted to go home. He wanted to curl up on their couch with the others bantering beside him. Shiro occasionally stroking his hair. Lance and Pidge nudging into him whenever they got too excited to mind their movements. Hunk urging him to join them as they ate, crushing him in hugs. Coran cracking bad jokes to him, trying to make him laugh. Allura’s hand on his shoulder, guiding him, her voice echoing through Red as they formed Voltron.

He missed it. All of it, both good and bad. He'd never felt homesickness before this.

Moving one hand to rub the back of his head, his vision focused on the wall of the closet. The strands on his head still felt disgusting, even after his shower. His whole body seemed to be sluggish, now, and any motivation he’d had a few moments ago seemed to dissipate as he tried to focus on breathing.

As his fingers brushed through his hair, they nudged against the wall, a mass of ridges that were carved into the steel.

The focus he’d had on his breath was lost as he jerked, sitting up and turning around to look at the wall.

Behind him, there were scratch marks on the wall, deep indentations that caved the steel inwards. He traced his finger through them, and while he couldn’t tell how long they’d been there, it couldn’t have been long. They thoroughly checked all rooms in the Academy before placing new students in them. It would’ve been fixed if it was from before he and Lance had moved in.

At the base of the scratches was the ghost of a hand, lighter against the wall than the scratches, but still there. Blinking a few times, his hand curled into a fist as he tried to process what he was seeing.

A remnant of the past and a hint for his future. What he had been looking for.

Two things happened simultaneously, then.

One, he put his palm over the hand on the wall, pressing it down little by little until it fit into the shadow perfectly. His fingers fit into the lengths on the wall, and his other hand dragged down the scratches.

Two, there was a jingle of keys, and then the door opening.

“Keith? Are you here?” He heard Lance’s voice call out as the door was shut. “Why is there stuff all over the floor?”

He had made these scratches. Why, he had no idea, but the feeling of it underneath his hands was so familiar that he almost thought he should know already.

“Is that my sister’s clothing?” Lance asked. Keith looked over his shoulder, quickly retracting his hand from the wall and creeping out from behind the clothes in the closet. “Uh.” Lance lifted his head and looked back at him. “Why are you in the closet?”

Keith used the frame again to stand up, his legs somehow shakier than before. “Just looking around,” he answered.

Lance raised an eyebrow at him. “Well, okay then, weirdo,” he said, and the tone of his voice told Keith that he didn’t believe him. “You’re supposed to be in bed.”

Keith opened his mouth. He should tell what he found. Out of everyone, Lance deserved to know the most that he was in the process of bringing back this world’s Keith. But as he tried to get the words out of his throat, the thought of Lance overreacting over Keith hiding something from him again stopped him. “Yeah,” he cleared his throat instead. “Sorry.”

He went to lie down on the bed again. Lance huffed a little, muttering about Keith being unnecessarily difficult, and deposited the jacket and his sister’s overalls into a box in the closet. “Stay there while I heat you up something.” Lance kissed his forehead, then went to the fridge.

The beginning of a plan started to form in his mind and he smiled at Lance’s back.

*****

“I thought you were mad at me.”

Keith picked at one of his nails, avoiding Shiro’s gaze. “If I was mad at you, I wouldn’t have told you to come over.”

Shiro laughed and laid down on the bed beside him, his feet covered with bright green socks. “I’m not sure if that’s entirely true, but alright.”

Keith hummed, lowering his hand onto his lap. “I didn’t call you here to yell at you.”

Rolling onto his side, Shiro didn’t try and move any closer than a few inches, but his eyes were so fiercely attentive that it was still as if he was drowning in Shiro’s presence. “You called me here for something, then.”

Keith pursed his lips. “Yes.”

“Something that Lance can’t hear,” Shiro continued, looking around the room. Lance had left half an hour ago, leaving his jacket behind, slung over the chair in front of the desk. “Else you wouldn’t have gone out of your way to pick a time when he wasn’t here.”

“Or I just like privacy,” Keith said, a little more snappish than it’d sounded in his head.

“I can tell when you’re lying, Keith.” Not all the time, Keith thought. “What do you need?”

“Can’t I just enjoy the company of my best friend?”

Shiro sighed, exasperated.

“Fine. I need you to tell me something about Lance. And me.”

Shiro blinked, the corners of his lips tugging downwards into a frown. “Because you don’t remember.”

“I already told you that.”

Slowly, giving more than enough time for Keith to move away if he wanted, Shiro put his hand on his shoulder. “You told him?”

Pulling his eyes away from the place on the bed where he had been staring, he nodded.

“Okay. What is it?”

“I need to know,” Keith breathed in harshly, thinking over his words, the exact implications he wanted to make with his phrasing. Shiro would pick apart his sentence and try and find excuses that didn’t exist if he said something wrong. “I need to know whether I was acting weird before the crash. With Lance, especially.”

Shiro hummed, rubbing Keith’s shoulder. “Worried?”

“You’re not my therapist,” Keith grumbled half-heartedly. “Answer.”

“We didn’t talk the few days before. It was like you were ignoring me. You don’t remember that?”

“No,” Keith answered shortly.

Shiro’s hand moved to his arm, then dropped onto the bed. “We thought you were preparing for your evaluation, to upgrade your ship, but Lance was really worried about you. He asked us all to message you because you were avoiding him. I don’t know if you were fighting. That’s something you should ask Lance about.”

Well, this world’s Keith was pretty shitty at being subtle. He was shocked that none of them had caught onto him plotting something, whether it was good or bad, until after the crash. The fact that he’d been able to make the ship go down, on purpose, with no one stopping him was surprising. And concerning. It said a lot about both this world’s Keith and his friends.

“Did he say anything… specific, about me?”

“He didn’t say anything bad, if that’s what you mean.” Shiro tapped his fingers against the bed. “Told me to keep an eye on you. Which I tried.”

“But?” Keith prompted.

“You didn’t want to talk. You said you were preparing for your evaluation, which made sense, but… it didn’t seem right.” It wasn’t, and they both knew that. There was no situation where Keith was stressed and he didn’t welcome Shiro beside him. He was a calming agent for him, and a good logical side opposite to him. “Why?”

“Just curious,” Keith said smoothly, but not smooth enough to fool Shiro. He sucked in his cheeks, unconvinced.

“If you’re in trouble…” Shiro seemed to struggle to find words, and he reached out to grab Keith’s hand. “You need to tell us. We can help you.”

“Why would you think that?” Keith’s eyes narrowed. He looked down at their hands, trying to understand the gears that were turning in Shiro’s head.

He thought he had amnesia, but that had been caused by the crash. He had been avoiding them, but there was no notion of him being in danger. And, really, there was no danger at the Academy. Alien contact didn’t appear to be a thing in this universe, and he’d never known the Garrison to be a dangerous place.

And he was pretty sure that Shiro hadn’t shoved his head into his and Lance’s closet to see the mysterious scratch marks on the wall.

“Crashing is an overly drastic method of getting out of a situation, and that seems to be the only logical explanation for all of this.”

“Please,” Keith snorted, but the laugh was lifeless. “What would I be in danger of?”

Shiro shrugged. “I don’t know. That’s why I was hoping you’d tell me.”

“You know I can’t.” Keith shook Shiro’s hand away. “I was thinking about whether Lance knew or not.”

“What?” Shiro asked, less surprised by Keith shoving him away than his words. “No, no. Of course not.”

“Is there any proof of that?”

He didn’t think that Lance knew the ship was going to crash, but it didn’t hurt to pick apart Shiro’s brain for any knowledge he might be withholding for the sake of Keith’s heart. Or even anything that he knew that unknowingly might help him.

“The one month he spent while you were in a coma is proof enough, I think. Not to mention that he’d never take part in any plot to hurt you. Prank you, sure, but not almost have you killed.”

“I have to rule out everything,” Keith explained.

“I know,” Shiro shook his head. “But save your energy for more plausible things. You’re still recovering.”

Keith let out a real chuckle this time. “Lance won’t let me forget. Don’t worry about that.”

“That’s why that idea is so… ridiculous. He wouldn’t put so much effort into caring for you if he didn’t love you.”

Keith shut his eyes, pressing his head against the pillow behind him. “You don’t think he knows anything?”

“No,” Shiro said, voice firm. “So don’t stress yourself out over that.”

The phrase no attachment echoed in the back of his mind. Shiro was his best friend, but it wasn’t this Shiro. He resisted the natural urge to smile.

“I’ll try.”

“You haven’t forgotten anything else? Or remembered anything?”

“How would I know if I forgot something else?” Keith opened one eye. “I don’t think so. And no. I would tell you if I had.”

Shiro’s eyebrows lifted and he gave an expression eerily similar to a pout. “You know you can always call me if you need something.”

“I will.”

“I’ll leave before Lance comes back.” He sat up, then off the bed. “Although you know I don’t approve of this sneaking around. He deserves to know what you’re thinking, especially if it’s about him.”

“Relax. I’m not going to hound him for information, but I didn’t say I think he was hiding anything.”

Now that he had a starting point, his next goal was to find clues as to why he had made the scratches on the wall. He didn’t need Lance for that, only for the details on their relationship. To help him get into this world’s Keith’s head.

The most obvious reason he could think of was that he had been in pain, and had taken it out on the wall, but that didn’t make sense. At least, not without knowing more about this world’s Keith.

“I’ll be back tomorrow?” Shiro asked, but it wasn’t much of a question.

“Mhm,” Keith took the pillow Shiro had been leaning on and propped his arm on it. “See you.”

“Don’t do anything stupid.”

On the contrary, Keith hoped he was making his Shiro proud by trying to get back to him.

*****

“Do you want gravy on your mashed potatoes?”

Keith nibbled on a raw carrot, sitting on the bed as Lance stood in front of the stove, putting a generous amount of food on a plate for him.

“Sure,” he answered, biting down and making a loud crunching noise.

Lance poured the gravy over and the mashed potatoes and then brought the plate to him. His own was sitting on the bedside table, most likely forgotten and running cold. Keith sighed, patting the spot beside him.

“Eat with me.”

“Where else would I eat?” Lance grinned, but the lines on his forehead grew softer at Keith’s request. He took the place on the bed and put his own food on his lap. “You’re eating at least half.”

Keith looked down at his plate. To say that it was more than enough was an understatement. There was no world where he’d willingly this much food.

“I think you meant to say one-quarter.”

“Hah.” Lance laughed, chewing on his vegetables. “You wish.”

Taking a bite of his own food, which was drenched in far too much gravy, he smiled at him. Lance appeared to be in a better mood. Although he couldn’t be sure, he had a feeling that he’d gone to visit Hunk or Pidge. He was always in a good mood after talking to them.

“You were okay while I was gone?”

Keith struggled to stop himself from rolling his eyes. “I’m not a child, Lance. I can sit here without you supervising me.”

“I know, just…” Lance scooped up his chicken, then dropped it, twirling his fork distractedly. “Why were you in the closet earlier?”

“I told you. I was looking around. This room is new to me.”

That wasn’t the answer Lance wanted. His head dropped down to stare at his plate, and the limpness that wracked through him was a full-body experience. He looked so defeated that Keith regretted saying anything, even if it was the truth.

“I was trying to learn more about… us.”

“In the closet?” Lance questioned.

“I was looking through the bins.”

Lance turned his head, looking up at him, head still ducked. “You could’ve asked me,” he mumbled, sounding like a child. The tone was familiar, but for once, Lance had a right to sound so annoyed.

“You weren’t here.” Lance frowned at that. “I wanted to figure things out for myself.”

“That’s the point. You don’t seem to get it, but you don’t need to do things by yourself.” Lance put his hand over Keith’s, then guided him to pick up a piece of the food, before moving back again. His hands tingled from the warmth Lance had left. “I’m not going to report you to the medbay. Just… ask me stuff, instead of doing anything irrational.”

“You already think I’m hallucinating.”

“Yeah,” Lance kept his gaze as solid as a stone, looking right at him. “But I’m not going to because I know it’d upset you, and I care for you.” He picked up his fork again. “And I’ll keep saying it until you believe me.”

“I do believe you,” Keith said. He paused to chew on his food. He’d never questioned Lance’s affection for him.

Lance didn’t reply, apparently focused on eating his food, which was now far more interesting than talking to him. It was the nicer equivalent of the silent treatment.

If Shiro knew something about Lance that he didn’t, he covered it up well. But Keith didn’t think that was the case.

“Actually, I do have one question,” Keith said, swirling his mashed potatoes around.

Lance appeared to brighten, trying to smile, but he looked tired. The lines around his eyes were deep, and his skin was dull. He was beginning to look just as sick as Keith was.

Decidedly finished with his food, he put the plate on the bedside table. “We fought before the crash.” It wasn’t a question, although he wasn’t positive, and the unsureness was still there.

“Where did you hear that?” Lance asked, smile dropping.

“It makes sense. That’s why you were so eager to make sure that I was okay.”

“You—” Lance curled his lip inward, biting down, jaw setting. “I told you. I care because I love you.”

“And I already said I know. But that doesn’t answer my question.”

He recalled the expression Lance had when he’d woken up, exuberant and relieved.

“That depends on what you mean by fighting,” Lance mumbled, like Keith had wretched the words out of him.

He slotted another piece into the puzzle in his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> is this chapter unedited? hell yeah! is this chapter late as fuck? hell yeah! 
> 
> so, after i came back from my vacation, it was like i forgot how to write lol. every time i opened up this chapter's document, i just stared for an hour before closing it. but i finally got off my ass today to finish it. yay!
> 
> the (even more) bad news is that my birthday is this weekend (ok, not so bad news for me but bad news for the next chapter) so i probably won't be able to write. i'll do my best to get in a few sessions though so the next chapter will come early next week!
> 
> as always, thank you everyone for the kind comments. i love seeing how people's theories have evolved over the course of the fic, especially the last few chapters. please please let me know what you think of this one in the comments below! and also, a special thank you to everyone who wished me good luck in my financial issues, as well as those who asked about my cat--he's recovered nicely and is back to being a giant baby.
> 
> talk to me on tumblr! http://koizumi.tumblr.com


	13. Chapter 13

“What does that mean?” Keith questioned and Lance shivered, trying to roll away.

Keith had always loved being right. Not that anyone liked to be wrong or put in their place, not particularly, but this wasn’t on the same level as whenever he one-upped Lance in his world.

Being right, being on the right track, not being a slave to this universe’s Keith’s mistakes—he was the only one in any universe who’d experienced this feeling. The only person who’d have the ability, really.

“We weren’t fighting.” Lance sighed and Keith moved closer, not wanting Lance to clamp up, or even worse, run away. He knew it must be hard, talking to a person who insisted that he wasn’t himself about a fight that he probably should know about. But he wasn’t going to let another chance escape. “But it kind of felt like we were.”

“What does that mean?” Keith asked urgently. He bit his tongue, willing away any signs of eagerness. 

“You…” Lance winced. For a brief second, Keith thought he was going to roll off the bed and charge into the bathroom, or claim he was going to stay in someone else’s room for the night. But he took a deep breath, eyes darting wildly, and continued, struggling. “You don’t remember?”

Keith laid his hand over Lance’s thigh. It shook when he touched it, but Lance didn’t pull back. A good sign. “No. But I want to know. I want to help. I want to—”

“Don’t finish that.” Lance lowered his hand. “I know what you’re going to say, so you don’t need to finish it.” He pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Okay,” Keith said slowly. “Will you tell me, then?”

Lance slugged his head back against the pillow, staring at the ceiling. There were tiny screws fixed into the steel. Something must have hung there, once. “I’m a good boyfriend,” he whispered. 

“Uh.” Keith brought his hand back and it sat uselessly between them. He itched to comfort Lance more, but the boundary between overwhelming and giving him mixed signals was too thin. He wouldn’t have even thought about it, back in his world. The vivid image of Lance throwing his arm over Keith’s shoulder, crushing him in the first hug he’d gotten from him, laughing about how ‘awesome’ it was when Keith sliced through a Galra senior officer, flashed in his mind. He gulped. “What?”

“You’re going to think that I’m a terrible boyfriend for not noticing something was wrong. And—And obviously something was wrong. People don’t just hallucinate, do they? Even if it was from the crash, something was wrong before, but I didn’t do enough to help you,” Lance choked out miserably. He continued to look at the ceiling, eyes tired, fingers restless against his sides. 

“I wouldn’t have thought that anyways,” Keith mumbled, then cleared his throat, speaking up. “I know you’re a good boyfriend. I saw… videos. And pictures. And I can just tell.”

Lance was quiet. And then, shockingly, he smiled and laughed quietly. “I know what one of the only videos on your portable is.”

Keith blushed, crossing his arms. “Can we move back to the more important topic here?”

Lance kept laughing until he was red in the face, propping his arm up on his knee and wiping tears from the corner of his eyes. “I wish I could’ve seen your face.”

“You don’t even believe me. Why would it be so funny?” he grumbled, his brain going full-speed ahead on focusing on the more important topic at hand, trying to ignore Lance laughing at him.

“I don’t think you’re faking not remembering.” Lance sniffled, rubbing his face and then settling down again. “And you’re so different. I’d bet you’re more a prude now.”

Keith opened his mouth, then closed it, attempting to think of a retort that wouldn’t end in him yelling. There was none.

“I told you, I’m not…” The smile was still on Lance’s face. It warmed a primal part of Keith’s heart that enjoyed seeing his friends happy. He had to remind himself, pounding a figurative hammer against his brain, that this Lance was not his friend. “I’m not used to it. Lance, come on.”

“Fine.” Lance’s cheeks were warm. Talking about his relationship, about this world’s Keith, did that. He didn’t know how Lance could think he had any doubts that they were good for each other. “Don’t laugh if I cry,” he said humorously, voice different from a few moments ago—lighter, less aggressive, even if it did have the edge to it that discussing Keith’s situation brought. 

“After you laughed at me for finding your… video? No promises. Talk.”

“I want to tell you about us, though.” Lance hurried to get his words out. “I’ll get to what happened before the crash eventually. But—It’s your relationship too. You should know.” He looked so hopeful and excited that Keith ran a hand through his hair. “And the days leading up to the crash will make more sense if I do.”

“If you get to the fight eventually,” he agreed.

“It wasn’t a fight.” Lance reached out and grabbed Keith’s hand. The action was so out of the blue that Keith almost made a surprised noise. The shift of Lance being affectionate, to distant, to affectionate, to distant, to now apparently affectionate again, was difficult to keep up with. He much preferred the affectionate version of Lance. He was easier to talk to than the Lance that only gave one-word replies.

He knew far too much for his liking, considering it’d only been a week since he’d woken up. It felt like years longer. He’d be a new person with much more patience when he went back to his world, from having to deal with all of this.

“Alright.” Keith let Lance play with his hand, fingers drawing over the lines of his palm.

Lance nudged their legs together, forehead puckering as he started. “I guess I should start at the beginning, since you don’t remember anything. We got here at the same time, and I started hearing about you a few weeks later. We weren’t in the same classes, initially, but boy, I heard some stuff. Top of the class. Best pilot ever. I even heard a rumor that they were going to let you skip to advanced classes. In the first semester of classes!”

Keith snorted. “I’m pretty sure that’s illegal.”

“Exactly! It was ridiculous. And I… I tried really hard. Honestly, I really wanted to do well. So hearing all this stuff about how no one would ever compare to you… it sucked.”

He leaned over Keith to grab his water from the bedside table, then tilted his head back to look at him “And then we actually met.”

“And?” Keith prompted, blinking.

“And I thought you were a total asshole. You brushed me off when I tried to introduce myself. To be honest, I still think it was kind of a dickish move.”

“That sounds eerily similar to how I remember it too.” Keith gave a small smile, remembering Lance’s face when he had barged in to try and carry Shiro. Trust him to make saving a kidnapped man into a competition. 

Lance emptied his glass. “In your ‘world’?”

“Mhm.” Keith took the glass from him without being asked, putting it back onto the table. 

“Maybe you remember the emotions, but not the actual events,” Lance pondered, tapping his chin. “After that, in our second semester, we were put in two of the same classes. So, unfortunately, I got to be up close and personal with you.”

“That’s different—Wait.” Keith frowned. “Unfortunately?”

“I did say you were an asshole back then.”

“You’re supposed to be in love with me or something.”

“I am in love with you,” Lance said confidently. “I can still acknowledge you were an asshole. Anyways! That’s not the point. The point is that you kept one-upping me. So I kept working until you began to notice my existence. Mostly by calling me out, but still.”

“This sounds very one-sided.” Keith’s smile disappeared. He smiled fondly, watching Lance talk animatedly.

“I told you, I’m giving you backstory! Else it won’t make sense. You need build-up, suspense.”

“Sure,” Keith said smoothly.

“After a month of you being yourself, I challenged you to a race. It was a good idea at the time. We were pretty even in speed, just not in controls. Like, maneuvering and stuff. Not my strong suit. But if we just went straight… then I’d have a chance to win.”

“I think I already know how this will end.”

Lance shook his hand, jerking upwards. “Hey! I had a chance. I lost, but it was close. Anyways,” he puffed out his cheeks, shaking their hands. “Then I found out that Pidge, who was our referee, was Shiro’s friend, who was your friend. Which meant that we had mutual friends. At the time, I was a little bit offended that she would ever hang out with any of your stupid friends, but Shiro is cool, unlike you.”

Keith scoffed. “Excuse me?”

“You’re excused,” Lance quipped, smirking. “Wait, I have something that’ll help—”

“That is not what I meant when I said excuse me—”

Lance climbed off the bed, letting go of Keith’s hand and kicking him in the leg as he stood up. “Don’t move!” He walked over to the table by the window and rifled through the items on the desk before coming back. “Found them. Here, look.”

He held out a stack of photographs, all with the same thick, pink and white border. Keith eyed them and then took the pictures; after he looked over the topmost picture, he knew what Lance was showing him.

They were pictures of them kissing. Lance’s hands over his cheeks, their faces both a furious bright red even in the dulled colours of the photo. Keith looked a moment away from screaming or shoving him back. They were blurry, and only got progressively more so the further down he went the stack.

“Pidge took ‘em. And then Hunk, but you can barely tell what’s going on his.” Lance pulled out one of the photos at the end and placed it at the top. It was a messy, green blur, the only real recognizable shape being Keith’s jacket and Lance’s leg, halfway out of the photo. “You chased me because you thought it was a prank.”

“You got them to take a picture of us kissing?” Keith asked dubiously.

“Uh, not just any kiss,” Lance said slowly. “Our first kiss!”

“Because that’s significantly less creepy, right?” Keith was starting to think Lance just had a thing for keeping relics of the past. Taking photos of their first kiss, and that video. It made sense, considering what he knew about him, and with the clothing of his sister that he found in their closet. Lance liked keeping mementos, things of sentimental value. 

“It’s cute.” Lance elbowed him. “Look, in this one, you stopped chasing me after Shiro came in and told you that it wasn’t making fun of you.”

In the photo, Shiro was holding Keith back from presumably ripping out Lance’s hair. In the next one, he looked like a fish, mouth wide open and eyes wide.

“This one’s my favourite,” Lance snickered, flipping to one of the last ones. 

Lance had his arms around Keith and Keith’s face was buried against his shoulder. In the background, Pidge and Shiro were grinning. He could see the outline of Hunk’s finger against the lens of the camera.

“You got embarrassed. It was adorable.” Lance rubbed his thumb over the mass of Keith’s hair in the photo. 

“That was—” Keith passed him back the photos. He could tell he wanted to hold them. Lance took them graciously, still fixated on them. “That was a big jump. From you being a sore loser to us going out.”

“We didn’t start going out until a few weeks later. Not officially, anyways. But there was other stuff in between. We started to hang out, all five of us. At first…” He cut off, laughing.

Keith’s eyes narrowed. “At first?”

“At first, the others had to mediate us. It’s weird to think about now. Since we’re dating and all. But you started to get more tolerable. And then one day I woke up and saw a message from you and was like… dude, I want to date that.”

“Really. Those were your exact thoughts,” Keith deadpanned.

“Okay, no, no. I didn’t say that.” Lance stuck out his tongue at him. “It was pretty close though. I dunno, I just realized I liked you. I told Hunk, who told Pidge, who told Shiro, who, thank god, didn’t tell you. He helped me figure out the best way to ask you out.”

“Which was to take pictures of it?” 

“It was to do it romantically.” Lance smoothed the photos over with his other hand, balled into a fist. “And in public, because it’d make you feel safer. The others were just there in case you didn’t believe me when I said it wasn’t a joke. Which you didn’t. My brilliant idea of having it photographed was just an afterthought.”

Keith laid back and a smile spread across his face without him even realizing it. Lance’s happiness was infectious, especially after days with nothing but stress.

“You didn’t want to say we were dating until the honeymoon period was over. Which, by the way, never happened. Our relationship is always awesome.” Lance leaned against him. “Actually, showing you the photos reminded me of an idea I had.”

“That’s a little scary to hear.”

“Rude.” Lance exaggerated a frown, but it broke into a grin after a second. “I was thinking if we acted out something important, like, a life-changing moment, then it may bring your memories back.”

Keith sighed. “It’s not going to work. I don’t have amnesia. I’m not hallucinating either.”

“I know, I know. Whatever.” Lance pouted, eyeing Keith with the same puppy eyes that he’d given him earlier. “Can we just try? Please?”

Keith rubbed his temples. “But why?”

“Because I’m going along with your ridiculous mechanical lion thing, so the least you can do is play along with me,” Lance said pointedly, and it was too good for Keith to say ‘no’ to. He was right. Acting out a significant life event wasn’t nearly as drastic as hijacking a ship and making off into the desert to find an alien robot. 

In Keith’s universe, it would’ve been reversed.

“Alright.” Lance went back to smiling in an instant. Bastard. He really did know how to use that expression of his. “What?”

“I figured we could start with something you already know about.” Lance gestured towards the photographs. “Our first kiss. The defining moment of our relationship.”

“We’re not going outside in our pyjamas.” Keith scowled, already regretting agreeing to Lance’s idea. 

Lance shot back up, pulling Keith with him. “Don’t worry.” He grabbed both his hands, holding both of Keith’s palms. “We can do everything important from here.”

Keith swallowed. It sounded all too loud to his own ears. 

“You’re supposed to be telling me about the fight,” Keith managed to get out as Lance scraped his thumbs over Keith’s knuckles.

“I will!” Lance retorted quickly, crossing his legs and getting into a comfortable position. “Soon.”

“Soon,” Keith echoed in disbelief. His hands were beginning to get clammy. 

“Mhm.” Humming, Lance released Keith’s hands and then placed them over his cheeks. Instantly, all the blood in his body seemed to rush to his face. His thoughts flatlined and, somehow, it was worse than the first time Lance had kissed him. 

Maybe because, now, it was more intimate. Because Lance was dumping his heart out to Keith. Because he’d been living with him for two days. Because of too many things that Keith hadn’t accounted for.

“Yeah, that’s the same expression I remember.” Lance’s eyes crinkled at the corners, twinkling with joy. “And then I told you to close your eyes.”

Keith stared at him, eyes decidedly wide and open.

“Keith,” he whispered. “Close them. You need to follow what happened if you want your memories back.”

“It’s not going to—”

Lance shushed him and Keith shut his eyes, grinding his teeth together. Patience. His heart was pounding against his chest, each thrust in his ribs making his body vibrate.

“And then…” Lance took a deep breath, so loud that Keith could hear it, could feel it against him. Fuck, when had they had gotten so close? Lance’s chest was right in front of his. “And then…”

“Hurry up, Lance,” Keith mumbled, words sharp from anticipation. Get it over with, he told himself. Do it so you can get the information—

“And then I looked at Shiro, and he gave me a thumbs up…”

—Fuck, the information. They’d strayed from their topic. He should’ve stopped Lance when he tried to get up for the photos, he knew he was going to get overexcited over something—

“Lance,” he snapped.

“And then… Pidge dropped the camera, so I waited, and you opened your eyes. So I told you to close them again, and Pidge nodded at me.”

—Keith held his breath.

He was supposed to be doing something. He was supposed to be on his way to going home. He’d almost forgotten—he had forgotten, actually—with Lance bringing him through the steps of their relationship. The freaky scratch marks appeared in his mind again. He should mention those, to get Lance listening to him again. 

At the same time, another part of his brain was trying to figure out why he cared at all, why he got so invested whenever Lance spoke about this world’s Keith. This wasn’t his relationship.

His attempt at stringing rational thoughts back together were stopped when Lance whispered, “And then…”

And then Lance kissed him, and Keith began to doubt himself more and more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you everyone for the birthday wishes! <3
> 
> aaaaaaaas always, thank you for the comments, kudos, and everything in between! some really interesting theories last chapter... :P who knows who's right though?
> 
> talk to me on tumblr! http://koizumi.tumblr.com/


	14. Chapter 14

Lance’s lips were chapped, gliding over Keith’s, pressing until Keith felt like he was drowning underneath the pressure of Lance’s movements. Keith’s eyes flew open and locked with Lance’s; he looked like a cat on the prowl, pupils slitted and eyes narrowed with concentration.

The scrape of Lance’s chin against his as he tilted his head upwards, kissing Keith harder, made him go dizzy with something like desire.

He almost choked into Lance’s mouth, scrambling to hold onto him so he wouldn’t fall over.

There was something extremely fucked up about all this, even beyond the idea of travelling universes, that he couldn’t shake. Even more than the fact Lance was someone else’s boyfriend, falsely in love with him.

The foreign feeling of lust that was creeping into his stomach was evidence of that.

Lance released his face, dragging his hands down the front of Keith’s shirt. The ghost of a touch made him shiver, pulling back from surprise just as Lance’s fingernails scraped over the skin of his stomach.

“Lance—” he tried, but in a moment, Lance’s mouth was back on him again. Open, this time, horrifically wet and hot, his tongue sliding along Keith’s. His instinctual reaction was to press back, spurred on by the feeling of Lance rubbing his skin. It was molten.

Lance made a noise that went straight to Keith’s groin, low and rough. He used one hand to brace himself against the bed, the other still holding onto Lance. Lance was being vocal, loud and unabashed, and it made Keith’s cheeks burn. He was doing it on purpose, Keith knew, because Keith was plainly embarrassed.

He was pushed onto his back and Lance climbed over him, releasing his lips.

“Don’t speak,” he whispered, and Keith hadn’t even intended to until he said that.

“Lance,” he attempted as Lance kissed over his jaw, the rest of the sentence dying in his throat. He’d never thought about someone kissing him there, but when Lance bit into the tight skin underneath, he wanted more, instantly. He tilted his head upwards, allowing Lance free access to his neck. Lance happily obliged, spending a single second on every expanse that he could get to, his tongue dabbing over every fresh, light pink mark.

The thought of Lance over him, kissing him everywhere, made his pants tighten.

He knocked his head into Lance’s by accident, shocked by his own thoughts. What the fuck was that?

“Ow,” Lance said, rubbing his temple.

“This isn’t,” he panted, wiping his mouth, as if that would remove the feeling of Lance’s tongue in his mouth that was floating in his mind still. “You said you answer my question.”

“You don’t need to be embarrassed about making out. I’m not going to judge.” Lance fisted Keith’s hair, but lightly, rubbing over his scalp, just the way that Keith liked, making his spine tighten with pleasure. He grimaced.

“Either you’re making out with a person that’s hallucinating,” he said, not moving Lance’s hand. “Or someone that’s not your boyfriend.”

It was an unfair comparison, he knew, but it was the first thing that had came to mind. Lance pulled back, frowning. That was at least familiar. He was now well-acquainted with Lance’s disappointment and confusion.

“You don’t regret it,” Lance said accusingly.

Keith swallowed, throat feeling heavy. It was difficult to speak, suddenly, as if every word took a monumental amount of effort to form. It felt like Lance was calling him out.

Lance sighed, falling back onto his bottom on the bed. “Fine.” He picked at his nails. “It didn’t work. Whatever.”

Keith snorted; as if that had been the true purpose of Lance’s plan. He was still pink, from his ears to his neck, a rosy flush against his tan skin. Keith bit his lip, still swollen, and glanced at Lance’s crotch before he could stop himself.

“We’re not doing anything,” Keith announced, a little too premature. Lance followed the trail of his gaze and rolled his eyes.

“I didn’t want to have sex.” He crossed his arms. “I just want to kiss my boyfriend. And you obviously want to kiss me too. You did kiss me. So even if you don’t remember anything, you still remember that you like me.”

Without Lance’s distracting him, the murky feeling in his brain was beginning to cloud over him again. He rubbed his forehead with his palm. “I keep telling you not to do that, but you still do.”

“You’ve kissed me back every time.” Lance got off the bed and put the pictures that were on the bedside table back onto the desk. He spent an unnecessarily long time refiling them before sitting down.

Keith watched him, frowning, even though Lance couldn’t see.

Lance was trying to get him off-topic, obviously. And get into his pants at the same time. The idea that Lance had made those scratch marks occurred to him, as Lance sat silently next to him, staring at him, but he looked like he was lost in his own thoughts.

It made sense, somewhat—Lance would have seen him in the closet and known that he found them, and maybe he even knew Shiro had come over.

But at the same time, Lance was smart enough that if he had made them, he would’ve covered them up, had they had something to do with the problems with their relationship. Unless it was some kind of reverse-psychology power trip, which didn’t seem like something Lance would do.

They needed to talk about it, desperately, but Keith’s body felt hot, like an open wire, and he wasn’t sure if he could string the proper ideas together that would make Lance answer him.

“Fuck it,” he muttered, and moved so that he was lying against the pillow again. “I’m sleeping.”

Whatever was going on with Lance, he was sure that he wouldn’t do anything while Keith was asleep, and he needed the time to calm down and rest. Too much had happened today, like every other day, and the lack of sleep was getting to him.

“Okay.” Lance was looking at him, still, with that same intense stare. “I’m going to go shower.”

The water was running within the next minute and Lance poked his head through the crack of the door and called out, “I love you, good night,” as if that was a normal thing to say after your boyfriend rejected you for the fifth time.

Keith rolled onto his stomach, shoved his face into the pillow, and groaned.

*****

_Mental breakdown_

_Werewolf transformation_

_Hidden door behind wall_

_My strange addiction: Scratching walls_

Keith stopped writing after that.

Lance had, once again, and very predictably, been gone by the time Keith woke up. He vaguely remembered during a sleepy haze Lance petting his hair again and kissing his forehead before leaving, grumbling something about school, but he’d been too knocked out from his medicine to do anything but grumble back.

Which meant that Lance had effectively side-stepped the conversation about their relationship. Keith hadn’t wanted to sleep through the whole night straight, but his head had been burning too much to care. At least that was gone. He rolled his neck and it cracked blissfully.

Maybe he was hallucinating. Or, at least, the drugs were affecting his way of thinking. There was no way in his right mind that he’d let Lance push him down like that, especially when they had life-affecting conversations to partake in.

Not that any of the drugs had ‘gets turned on by making out with an alternate version of one of your only friends’ listed as a side effect. He winced.

He wasn’t going to dwell on it, though, mostly for the sake of his own sanity. The state of his relationship with Lance, whatever the fuck it was, wasn’t his priority in the slightest. The information Lance had was, and he should be worrying more about the fact that Lance seemed to be going out of his way not to help him. Lance had already made it clear that something had happened before the crash, something that was too uncomfortable for him to talk about.

Most of it could be chalked up to him not being affectionate enough; Lance was like a dog who wanted attention. It was like a trade-off for him. Love for information.

The kissing wasn’t what made Keith the most uncomfortable.

He sighed and tabbed out of the notebook app in his portable. The diary icon taunted him, still shut. He tapped on the browser instead, opening up the Garrison’s map data.

Whatever. Lance was still going to hold up his end of the deal of following Keith to Blue. He wasn’t going to let him forget that.

He typed in the coordinates to the cave. The Garrison had little data mapping this area of the desert, which wasn’t a surprise to him. It was in the middle of nowhere. He’d walked for days, once, when he’d lived there alone, and hadn’t reached any signs of life other than small animals and foliage.

The cave where she was held no signs of being any different from the other dozen caves that lined the mountains there. He’d never thought about how exactly the lions actually got inside the caves. They were huge, and the entrance was tiny. He laughed to himself, imagining Allura’s father disassembling and reassembling a thousand tiny, metal pieces.

His heart hurt and was filled with warmth all at the same time. He would give anything to have her advice right now.

There was a list of things that he needed to do first, though, before he could settle down and reminiscence about his friends. Since Lance was gone and he wouldn’t be back for at least a few hours, he only had two other things on his list besides pestering him: the diary, and the scratch marks.

The scratch marks he’d been thinking about for half an hour already, but there was no way he could figure out what they were from without picking Lance’s brain.

The diary was something that had been bothering him every time he saw it. He took a screenshot of the map zoomed in on the cave, then went back to the diary password screen.

He thought very, very hard for a moment about it, forcing all of his energy and thoughts onto breaking the password. If everything was going well, Lance’s theory would be half-right and some of this Keith’s memories would be lodged in his brain.

But the best one he could think of was one he’d already tried. Sitting there and typing in random things would be a waste of time.

There was one thing he could do. It was risky, for sure, even worse than pulling Shiro when Lance was gone. Way worse, actually.

If he didn’t try, though, he could be screwed over by Lance’s reluctance to speak. At least this would be progress.

He closed out of the password screen and opened his messages.

_Sent July 29, 21XX to Katie: Are you in class?_

******

“So, so, so,” Pidge said as she walked into the room. “Need my help now, hmm? Long time no talk.”

“It’s been like two days.” Keith rolled his eyes. The longest two days of his life, but still. She dropped her bag loudly by the bed and flopped onto the mattress, huffing. “You know I’m still injured.”

“You don’t look very injured,” she quipped back.

Keith hadn’t looked in the mirror since yesterday morning, but he believed it. His legs were still the most painful, but he walked around enough yesterday that he couldn’t be considered bed-confined anymore.

“But I’m guessing you didn’t ask me here to discuss your miraculous recovery.” She smiled, showing that she was joking, but Keith felt like there was some sharper, truthful element to it. She’d been right about him purposely crashing the ship before there was any evidence of it, as far as he knew, and it appeared she had some other theories. He had to find a way to ask her about them without coming off as knowledgeable himself.

“You can hack into stuff, right?”

“Why? You looking to sneak into something of Lance’s?” She took the portable out of his hands before he could even answer. “Not sure if I approve of that.”

“No.” Keith held back from rolling his eyes. “I forgot the password to my diary application. I need to get in.”

“You forgot? You, of all people?” She raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “Sure.”

“I banged my head really hard, if you didn’t notice from the month-long coma.”

“So you’re having memory problems. That’s different from just forgetting. But yeah, I’ll do it.” She kicked open her bag with her foot and picked up her own portable from the ground. “If you tell me what’s in it.” She grinned cheekily.

He swiped the portable back from her, closing the tabs in the background before passing it back. There was no reason for her to see the other stuff he’d been looking into.

“Personal stuff,” he answered truthfully. “About Lance.” That was a wild guess.

“Fascinating,” she said blandly as she tapped on her own portable. “It’ll only take a minute or two, assuming your password isn’t thirty characters long. Did you try ‘Lance’?”

He did roll his eyes this time. “Yes, I tried ‘Lance’.”

“You never know,” she shrugged. “So, what have you been up to?”

“Lance,” he said shortly, like that explained everything.

“How descriptive. You’re very talkative today.” She set her portable down. “The program needs to run in the vicinity of your portable for a few moments. Shouldn’t take long.”

Like he was ever that talkative, at least compared to Lance. He let out a small laugh, crossing his legs.

“Nothing. I’ve been in bed, that’s it.”

“I think the peak of your life was a month ago. You know, like, the most exciting thing that’s ever going to happen is your near-death experience, and now everything is dull. Like a really bad movie,” she giggled, watching the screen.

“That’s nice to hear.” He had no idea what the program was doing; he could see it filtering letters and numbers, one by one, but it was a jumbled mess, especially since his view was upside-down. “Is it done?”

“When I said it needs a few moments, I meant at least a minute. Slow down.” She lifted her head. “Eager to get rid of me?”

He noted to turn down the aggressiveness. It wasn’t a conscious reaction, but he wanted to get inside the diary quickly. The eagerness was consuming him. He took a deep breath. “No,” he replied. “Don’t you have class?”

“I’m on break. Thanks for thinking about my grades,” she chuckled and lifted Keith’s portable. “And… there. Here you go.”

For such a monumental step, it was incredibly underwhelming to take the portable, look down, and see all of the entries listed by their dates, rather than by content. “Thanks.”

“No problem. Your password is ‘Lancelot123’, by the way.”

Lancelot123? What kind of an idiotic password was that? He tabbed out of the diary screen quickly to write it down, huffing.

“Alright.”

“Soo…”

He scrolled through the diary page. The entries went back for around a year and a half, all titled in the same format, but he doubted he’d need to go back that far, thankfully.

“Memory loss, huh? I probably should’ve noticed. You were acting funny.”

“Funny?” he glowered.

“Weird,” she corrected. “You going to get that checked out?”

He looked up from the portable. “No. It’s not a big deal.”

“Well, keep an eye on it,” she said uneasily. “But it’s your choice. As long as you remember your name and stuff, it can’t be that bad.”

She lifted her bag off the floor and put her portable back. He could feel her eyes on him as he absently scrolled back and forth on the entries page; he didn’t want her to see them, and she could most likely tell, but at least it could be attributed to him wanting privacy.

“Luckily for you, you caught me at the end of my break, so I have to go to class.” She jumped off the bed. “I’m keeping my eye on you though, mister.” She motioned from her eyes to Keith’s, squinting as she backed away.

Once she left the room, he sighed. She’d go and ask Shiro about him, he’d bet, but he had faith that Shiro would keep his fake-secret. It couldn’t be any worse than what she’d already been doing while under the assumption that he’d caused the crash—as in, nothing.

He reminded himself that they were friends. She was looking out for him, or at least, she thought she was looking out for the other Keith.

The most recent entry was from the night before the crash. He shut his eyes for a moment, forced his shoulders to relax, and then tapped it.

_Journal,_

_Passed evaluation test. Going on first run tomorrow with Lance. Unfortunate, but it can’t be avoided. He’s worrying too much and he might fuck things up. Somehow, I can’t bring myself to be angry._

_Keith_

He tried to scroll down, but the application stopped him. That was it? He hadn’t been expecting much in the first place, but what he just read was useless.

Forehead puckering, he swiped to the entry from the day earlier. That had only been the first one, he reassured himself. There were plenty of other days that could hold clues to his thought process.

It occurred to him that he wasn’t even searching for the direct cause of his seemingly cross-universe travel. Not that he could even figure that out. It was such a ridiculous concept in the first place—time travel on its own wasn’t even real, let alone travelling back in time into another universe completely.

_Journal,_

_Group dinner. Celebrating Hunk’s exam results. Lance has started to touch my hair more. It’s both weird and amazing. I don’t know why he suddenly began doing it, though. Need to find that out. Kind of an odd fixation._

_Keith_

Lance touching his hair appeared to be a constant, then, albeit not a very useful one.

_Journal,_

_Date day. Went into the gardens again. Not like there’s anywhere else pretty to go. I think he has a kink for being where people can find us. It was a nice distraction from everything else, at least._

_Keith_

Now that was just gross. He wanted to bleach the words from his memory instantly.

Then again, with the memory of Lance kissing him sloppily still fresh and settling into his mind, he wasn’t sure if he had the right to think that anymore. And he’d enjoyed it.

Swallowing his bile, he continued reading.

_Journal,_

_Lance is sad because he thinks I’m ignoring him. Need to be less obvious. Not that sneaking around was the plan in the first place. Shiro keeps pestering me, too. I hate both of their stupid, earnest faces._

_I feel bad for typing that. I don’t hate either of them. Sorry, you two._

_Keith_

Funny, but again, not helpful.

He didn’t think otherwise in the first place, but the other Keith was smart enough not to mention anything he was doing by name. Which he assumed was because of how easily hackable it was.

When he looked at the next entry, though, he went still.

_I’m pretty sure everything is going to go to shit now. I feel like Lance typing that. I don’t even want to think about him right now._

It was just as cryptic as the others; the actual content wasn’t what caught his eye.

There was no intro or outro. He flipped through the next ten hastily, but they all had it.

Which meant this day was different. This was a day where something big happened. The words confirmed that, but the lack of routine was the bigger signifier.

He looked at the date: June 2.

He had to remember that. June 2. It was another thing he had to ask Lance about—or, maybe this was the cause of their ‘fight’.

Settling down, he waited for Lance to come home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> first of all: a HUGE, HUGE shout-out to tumblr user cirrcie who drew some beautiful fanart for this fic! i actually screamed in joy when i saw it. the first gift like this i've ever received; thank you so so much! everyone, check it out [here!!!](http://cirrcie.tumblr.com/post/149370785882/his-attempt-at-stringing-rational-thoughts-back) :D
> 
> i'm also taking requests for stuff to write in between crossroads chapters. warning, though, i'm not that good at writing oneshots lol. request on tumblr if you'd like!
> 
> [commentator voice] what happened june 2?!?!?!?!
> 
>  
> 
> [talk to me on tumblr!](http://koizumi.tumblr.com)


	15. Chapter 15

“You’re up already?” Lance asked when he walked in. He set his bag down by the door as usual and flung himself onto the bed beside Keith. It creaked underneath their weight as he snuggled closer, sighing happily. “I was hoping you’d still be asleep.”

Now Keith was probably just looking into things too much, but—“You hoped?”

“Well, yeah.” Lance shrugged, throwing his arm around Keith. No matter how many arguments they got into over Lance’s continued affections, he seemed to bounce right back the next day. In one ear, out the other. Or, he was just ignoring him. Keith figured it was a little bit of both. “I haven’t forgotten how you almost died. You haven’t been sleeping nearly as much as the doctors told you to. And don’t lie, I checked your papers the day you were discharged.”

He wasn’t going to admit that he already felt almost fully recovered, because it most likely had something to do with the universe switch, and he didn’t want to make Lance upset right before he tried to get information out of him again. 

“I was sleeping until an hour ago,” he lied. “All I did was take a shower, so don’t worry.”

Lance pouted, rubbing his cheek on Keith’s shoulder. “You keep saying that. Don’t worry. You know I can’t stop.”

Keith glanced over at him, his nose brushing over Lance’s hair. It was softer than he’d expected, but thin. For all the times that Lance had touched his hair, he’d barely made a move to reciprocate. 

Mustering his best non-confrontational voice, he sighed. “We need to finish talking.”

Lifting his head, Lance’s pout grew. Keith tilted backwards, letting Lance fall off of him; they were too close and he was sure that Lance knew it as well. Lance huffed, but leaned back obediently, crossing his arms over his chest.

This world’s Keith hadn’t trusted Lance for some reason. And while Keith wouldn’t put his life in this world’s Keith’s hands even if he was on the brink of death, he had to be cautious. He didn’t think Lance was secretly an axe-murderer—or in this case, ship-murderer—but there had to be some reason.

The scratches on the wall, Lance avoiding him, June 2nd. All of them had to be connected, or he was both screwed and stupid.

“I’m not the one who decided to go to sleep early,” Lance said, pursing his lips. “We can finish, but you have to do one more thing for me.”

Keith pinched his nose. Of course he did. Lance knew that he had the advantage right now. “What?”

“We never finished our walk through time!” Lance patted the bed excitedly. He reminded Keith of a kid in a candy store, only older, more immature, and far too smart for his own good. 

“And that was your fault for sidetracking it.” Keith really did try to keep his voice steady, but he couldn’t help how snappish it came out. “I held up my end of the deal.”

And, just like a kid, Lance deflated, shoulders slumping. “It’s not a deal. It’s—I’m showing you us. It’s not just some random people. I’m sorry for kissing you, okay? You said it was okay earlier. It wasn’t like I was going to start taking off your clothes. But even if you don’t remember, this relationship is… it’s important to me. And you. And it’s like you’re missing a part of yourself now, and it hurts, and—”

He choked, wiping at his face with his fists. Not only was Lance rambling, but he was growing more and more depressed by the minute. Keith gnawed on his lip, which was steadily becoming chapped, and put his hand on Lance’s shoulder.

Lance sniffled, looking at him with the biggest, saddest eyes Keith had ever seen. It was like trying to handle a kicked puppy, except with relationship troubles.

“It’s just hard for me to comprehend,” he said. “I’ve never thought about being in a relationship before.” 

“That doesn’t make sense for so many reasons,” Lance laughed, the noise coming out ugly from deep in his throat. He sucked in a deep breath, his tears wetting the corners of his eyes. “You don’t seem to have any idea how much I care for you. Before you say you do, you don’t. I can tell.”

Mildly offended, Keith’s hand fell down Lance’s arm. He frowned. “I do know. I’m trying to help you because I know that. You don’t want to be with someone who doesn’t love you back, so I’m trying to fix that.”

Lance put his hand over Keith’s. He was getting used to the feeling of Lance over him, covering him; either with his hand, or his back pressed to Keith’s chest, their legs tangled. It felt more suffocating when he knew Lance was doing it out of sadness. 

“You’re acting like I’m a robot that can dispense information for you. I’m not—I’m not going to blame you. I get it. You think that you’re from some other universe, and you’re a different person. But if that’s the truth,” he said, entwining their fingers, “you wouldn’t treat the Lance that you know like this. Would you?”

A long time ago, a year ago, at least, Lance and him had gotten into an argument while cleaning up the dining room. It was such an inconsequential, stupid argument, too. He couldn’t even remember what it was about. But Lance had turned to him, red-faced, and yelled, ‘Would you treat any of the others like this?’ before throwing his mop to the floor and storming out. It was one of the only times Lance had run away from one of their fights, and it had left him feeling infinitely worse than usual.

He hadn’t even thought that Lance remembered him talking about his Lance; and he was positive that he hadn’t said enough to warrant Lance making such a statement.

Even if it was true. He tried to breathe in quietly, but it came out as a strangled gasp. Was it true?

Keith didn’t have qualms with doing dangerous things to reach the end of a situation. God knows that was how he ended up in this world in the first place. But he wasn’t a terrible person.

At least, he thought so, and he’d thought that Lance thought so too. 

“Why are you only saying that now?” he asked instead. He wanted to punch himself in the face for speaking immediately after the words came out of his mouth.

“I’m not angry, and I told you, I’m not blaming you.” Lance squeezed his hand. “But we haven’t had a single real conversation this whole time, and I don’t think that’s my fault.”

“So you’re saying it’s mine?” Keith’s expression shifted into a scowl, the habitual feeling of anger beginning to pool inside his gut, setting his mind aflame with a dozen thoughts that absolutely wouldn’t help either of them. It was like a survival instinct.

“I’ve done nothing but try and help, and—yeah, maybe I did try and avoid the subject.” Lance turned their hands over, pressing his thumb over Keith’s palm. “It’s because you’re pressuring me! I don’t want to talk about it. So I tried to show you something happy, to try and get our lives back to normal, and you didn’t care. I think I’m being pretty selfless here.”

Keith wretched his hand away from Lance’s. It felt too nice, a striking contrast to Lance’s words that unsettled him. “I’m pressuring you because you don’t get it!” he grabbed the portable from beside him on the bed, angrily opening the cover. “And unlike you, I’ve actually been helping the both of us, while you’ve been blatantly ignoring all of your problems.”

“I’ve been trying to help us move past this!” Lance raised his voice, his sentence becoming shaky. “I don’t want to waste all this time on something that isn’t true. You almost died and you don’t care, that’s—fine, whatever, as long as you recover, but you have all these ideas in your head that are stopping you. Maybe I—Maybe I should talk to the doctors—”

“Don’t,” Keith grit out. “I’m not sick, Lance. Here.” He tapped the diary application and went to the entry of June 2. He had to get it out before Lance went onto another tirade. “Do you know anything about this?”

He flipped the portable around to face Lance. The other boy reached out for it, squinting down at the bright screen.

“You remembered the password?” he asked, all of the disappointment in his voice suddenly gone.

“No,” Keith sighed. He pointed to the date on the screen. “June second. What happened on that day?”

Lance’s eyebrows furrowed, a small crease appearing in the middle of his forehead. Keith wanted to smooth it out, but he kept his hand still over the date. “Why does that matter?”

“It has something to do with our fight, right? That’s why you won’t tell me.”

“I told you, what, three times already?” Lance grabbed the portable from him, staring down. “We didn’t fight. This is what I mean. I’m telling you things and you aren’t listening.”

“But something did happen,” Keith pressed, swallowing the strange feeling that came when Lance tried to appeal to his emotions again. Sentiments weren’t going to help him crack through Lance’s hard walls. 

“I—I don’t remember,” Lance said plainly, stumbling over his words, which was more than enough for Keith to know he was right.

“They’re my memories. I deserve to know.”

Lance brought his knees to his chest, setting the portable down between them. “I think I remember a little, but it’s hazy. I’m not even sure if it was June second or third or fifth or whatever.”

“That’s fine,” Keith said, exhaling slowly. Lance was on the right track now, at least, and it felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

A nagging feeling told him that he shouldn’t be so relieved, not when he’d had to yell at him to get him to admit anything. Partially because it meant that things were bad, and because a part of him was hurt.

He hadn’t meant to treat Lance badly. He didn’t even know if he was. He was treating Lance like he had to—with distance. And like everything else, Lance didn’t understand that. It benefited them both. 

“I came back from class, because you get off earlier than me, and you weren’t there. So I knocked on the bathroom door and you said you were in there. I had to pee, so… I told you to hurry up. As a joke, obviously. I don’t care how long you take in the bathroom,” Lance said hurriedly. “But you got really mad. You sounded like you were going to cry, so I just backed off. And… when you came out, you didn’t want to talk or cuddle, which is unusual. That’s all I remember. You were acting detached. For that whole month, actually.”

Keith let him talk, waiting, but it never came. The punchline, where Lance revealed the missing piece. Or at least a piece at all.

“That’s it?” he pressed.

“Yes, that’s it,” Lance grumbled, picking up the portable again. “I don’t know what that all means. You didn’t tell me about what was bothering you.”

Keith groaned, running his hands through his hair. “And there was nothing else different?”

Lance shrugged. “No. Everything was different, and then you almost died.” Keith saw him swipe his finger to go onto the next entry; he paused, reading it. “I just want things to back to normal.”

Keith took the portable back from him without asking. He wasn’t going to let Lance torture himself by reading the stress from the entries. He clicked it off, throwing it at the base of the bed.

“It will,” he promised. “I want the same thing.”

He’d never wished or prayed for something more in his life. He’d never prayed before, period.

“Then help me,” Lance pleaded, rubbing his hands over Keith’s arms. The movements sent goosebumps over his flesh.

“I am,” he insisted, biting his tongue. “Stop trying to distract me.”

“Why do you think—I’m comforting you, you jackass.” It wasn’t said maliciously, but it reminded Keith so much of his world’s Lance that, for a moment, his mind jumbled with confusion. He licked his lips. “Not everything I do has some ulterior motive. I’m not a villain. I’m your boyfriend.”

Keith ducked his head, squeezing his eyes shut, sorting out his thoughts again.

“Do you promise?” he asked.

Maybe he’d been being unfair to Lance; he’d been suspicious, but he was antagonizing his only source of real, unadulterated help. 

And to Lance, that seemed to also be a problem. That Keith wasn’t treating him like his boyfriend, or even a friend. If only he knew how difficult it would make it for the both of them if he started.

Then again, the idea of ‘no attachment’ might’ve gotten thrown out the window the first time Keith had kissed him back. He grazed his fingers over his lips, mildly sick just at the thought. 

Lance pressed his forehead to Keith’s, one hand holding his cheek. 

“I didn’t tell the Garrison this,” he mumbled, “because I was in shock when they were asking me questions, and I—I couldn’t tell them after, else they’d think I was hiding something else.”

Keith lifted his gaze. Lance’s eyes were downcast, the fingers resting on his cheek curling inwards. They were so close it was dizzying, but Lance was telling him something important, voluntarily, and he had to listen. He couldn’t move away; he knew the closeness helped Lance feel safe.

“When the ship was going down, you called to me from the back. I couldn’t move to you, because the ship was tilted downwards and there was so much stuff flying towards me, but you called to me. You told me to smash the window and land using the parachute underneath the controls.”

Lance’s other hand pressed against the bed, his fingernails scraping against the sheets. Keith could feel them being pulled away from him and Lance took a shaky breath, a small, hindered noise escaping him. 

“There were two parachutes, one for me, one for you. But I couldn’t get to you, so I—I said that I wasn’t going to. I couldn’t just jump out without you and leave you behind.” Lance’s voice quivered and his hand moved from Keith’s cheek to his forehead, pushing his fringe out of the way, their bare skin touching.

“You told me to, because you said it was—that it was your fault, and that—you—that you would haunt me forever if I didn’t,” he laughed, sniffling so hard that it made Keith’s own head hurt. He let go of the sheets and reached up, pressing against the corner of his eye. They were wet and shiny, and his lip quivered when he wasn’t speaking. 

“I’d never heard you sound so—so scared, and before I knew what I was doing, I reached underneath me and grabbed it. I left you behind,” he smiled briefly, but it crumbled soon after. “I left you behind, and if I—if I had just—tried harder, then—”

Keith touched Lance’s shoulder, barely grazing it, and Lance broke away, sobbing relentlessly. Keith stared, lost, as Lance covered his face with his arms. 

“Lance,” he whispered, scrambling to reach out again. He snagged Lance’s sleeve, feeling utterly helpless against the weight that was on Lance’s shoulders. “It’s not your fault.”

He recalled their argument from a few days ago, when Keith had told him the truth. They’d both been vulnerable and scared, no matter how much Keith hated to admit it, and Lance had said that if Keith had died, it would’ve been his fault. He’d cried then too, and Keith had taken it as Lance’s nerves talking, but Lance actually believed it.

The thought was terrifying.

“No,” Lance whimpered, struggling out of Keith’s grasp, but Keith refused to let go. His heart felt like it was about to jump out of his chest with how fast it was beating, and his hands were shaking, but he knew he couldn’t afford to let go. “I could have—there was so much that I—I fucked up, god, I fucked up Keith, I—”

“You’re trying,” Keith cut him off, hopelessly trying to reign in control over his own voice, but seeing Lance like this, knowing how much he was hurting—it was beyond difficult. It hurt him, too. “You’ve been trying to help, and,” Lance shook his head, “and I’m sorry for not listening like I said I would.”

Lance tried to take a deep breath, but his lungs seemed to be working against him and he choked again. Before he could begin thrashing again, Keith threw his arm around him, shifting closer so that their knees were touching. 

Keith’s eyes stung and he tilted his head upwards, letting Lance shove his face into the space underneath his chin, his tears wetting the collar of his shirt. He sobbed louder, muffled by his lips pressed against his skin.

“I’m sorry,” Keith mumbled.

Lance tried to answer, but he only blubbered, words slurred and unintelligible between his sobs and sniffles. 

“This—” Lance laughed and the breath that hit Keith’s skin sent a shiver down his spin. “This keeps happening.”

Slowly, he brought his fingers to the back of Lance’s head, copying the same movements through his hair that Lance did to him so often. 

“I’m sorry I pushed you,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry for making you think I didn’t care.”

Because, god, he did care. He couldn’t act on it, but he did care, and the realization sent another overwhelming pang of anxiety clouding his head. 

Emotions complicated things. Relationships complicated things. He was a fool for letting this happen; any of this, from the attachment to Lance getting worked up and making him feel it.

“And it’s my fault,” Keith continued. Lance removed his face from against his shoulder, his sobs gradually slowing down into small, sluggish shakes of his shoulders. “Everything is my fault, not yours.”

He wanted to think it wasn’t true, because really, he wasn’t this world’s Keith, he wasn’t the one who had ignored Lance, he wasn’t the one who had hidden things and forced his boyfriend to jump off a ship. 

But at the same time, he was doing the exact same things. Sneaking around, keeping things from Lance, forcing him to do things that terrified him. 

He’d antagonized the other Keith so much that the sudden awareness that they were the same person horrified him. 

“Don’t say that,” Lance mumbled. Keith’s hand slipped out of his hair. “I—I had a moment, there.” He forced a smile. “Sorry.”

Keith’s forehead wrinkled. “You helped me. Why are you apologizing?”

He should be the one apologizing and begging Lance to forgive him, but a combination of his pride and what little logic he had left stopped him.

“I don’t know,” Lance admitted.

“Then don’t.” Keith wiped away Lance’s tears with his thumbs. “Your words are valuable.”

Lance smiled, for real this time. “Is that something Shiro told you?”

It was, actually. Keith laughed lightly, lowering his hands. “Maybe.”

Lowering himself onto the bed, Lance stretched for Keith’s hand, catching it and tugging Keith down with him. He landed on the bed softly with an ‘oof’, rolling onto his side so he could face Lance.

Lance’s hand came to rest on his waist and he shut his eyes, breathing in the smell of their pillow, Lance’s cologne, basking in the feeling of his touch. 

“You’re tired too,” Lance said, stroking his side. “Don’t think I can’t tell.”

“I can’t give up.”

“I didn’t say you had to give up on—whatever it is that you’re trying to do,” Lance sighed. “You’re not taking care of yourself, though. You’re not going to be able to take care of it, that lion thing or anything else, if you don’t take care of yourself too.”

Keith frowned. He didn’t want to talk about himself, he only wanted to talk about the other Keith. Although, they were the same person, weren’t they? 

“I’m almost recovered. I can move around fine. And I’m not the one who just broke down crying.”

“Hunk always says a good cry fixes things right up. I’ve been cleansed.”

Keith huffed. “You’re my boyfriend, not a psychic, so don’t try and act like you know what I’m thinking.”

Lance’s smile softened; he moved in closer and closer into Keith’s personal space, until there was no space between them.

“I like it when you say that,” Lance murmured. “The word ‘boyfriend’. You didn’t say it a lot before, either. Also, I would know more about what you’re thinking if you told me.”

Keith stared back at him. Lance’s smile was a gift. It looked so warm and welcoming that Keith found himself wanting to drown in it, even in his own world. Lance’s kind smiles, Hunk’s good-natured hugs, Pidge’s honest compliments, Shiro’s long-standing presence. They all had the same effect on him.

Pidge often joked that it was his so-called ‘orphan complex’. 

“I have been telling you things,” he said stubbornly. 

“Yeah,” Lance replied quietly. “I guess.”

Keith’s heart panged with guilt. Lance wasn’t doing it on purpose. He had no way of knowing the other dozen things Keith was actually hiding from him. But it was something the other Keith had done too, and he didn’t want to be that person.

“Why do you like me?” he asked, genuinely curious.

“I don’t just like you, silly.” Lance pinched his side. “I love you. Maybe I wasn’t clear enough yesterday, but we—it’s not usually like this. It’s nice, usually.”

Keith snorted. “Just nice?”

Lance resorted to tickling him this time. Keith laughed, squirming away, only stopped by Lance’s being thrown around his, locking him in.

“Stop—” he yelped, and Lance did, eyes sparkling.

“Nice enough to move in together, so that’s something. But, no, it’s… we support each other, usually. I don’t know. We have fun and we make each other better. I—I think I’m a better person, because I met you.”

Keith gulped. That wasn’t true, not at all.

“And I’m not going to lie, I think you are because of me, too,” Lance grinned.

It was Keith’s turn to pinch his side, even though that one he could believe.

“You would’ve died if you hadn’t jumped off. So I know you’re beating yourself up for it, but I’m glad you did it,” Keith said. 

Lance leaned forward and nuzzled their noses together, distracting Keith before he realized that Lance was rolling him onto his back. Lance planted his elbows beside Keith, keeping himself hovered over him. 

“You’re talking like yourself again.”

Keith put his palm between them, just in case Lance tried to divert him again.

“What?”

Lance kissed his palm, laughing freely. He inclined and Keith thought he was going to kiss him, but Lance dropped on top of him instead, like a big teddy bear.

“Exactly what it means. You’re talking like you’re yourself.”

Keith struggled in his brain, then realized. He forced Lance back into the air, huffing, his lungs thankful for the air.

“It’s easier to say ‘me’ and ‘I’ then ‘the other me’.”

He kept forgetting about the actual topic at hand again, although this time, it wasn’t Lance’s fault entirely that they’d swerved off track twice.

“Or, you’re starting to remember things. Do my tears magically heal?” Lance joked. Keith closed his eyes, absolutely not pouting out of frustration. 

“I can only ‘remember’ what you told me,” he said, using air quotes. “We’re still going to find Blue. You aren’t getting out of that.”

“Honestly?” Lance fluffed his hair affectionately. “I think I’m okay with that, for real this time, if it means you’ll give up after. Then we can move on.”

He smiled, confident and expectant all at once, and Keith lost himself in that hopefulness.

In reality, he hadn’t learned anything important and new, other than the existence of the enormous burden that Lance had believed he had to carry. But if Lance was happy, then good. That was one thing taken care of. All he had to do was show Lance one piece of evidence and then they could begin to fix things together. He wouldn’t have to interrogate Lance for help. And then, maybe, they really could move on. 

He held his breath when Lance held him, and this time, it wasn’t so much of a distraction as much as it was an affirmation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so my original goal was to finish this fic by the end of summer... but lmao. i'm going to be at the lcs finals in toronto this week, and then fan expo next week. if anyone is going to either of them, let me know! it'd be cool to chat theories in real life. :P
> 
> we're getting into the part of the story that i feel like a lot of people will yell at me for. hang on tight!
> 
> as aaalways, thank you to everyone who commented, with a special shout out to the people who leave long comments. those really make my day!
> 
> shameless self-plug, but check out my other klance fic, [to the universe and back with you](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7871470/chapters/17976757) if it strikes your fancy!
> 
> and of course, talk to me on [tumblr!](http://koizumi.tumblr.com/)


	16. Chapter 16

Lance threw his arm over Keith’s legs, groaning. “Keith, you told me you would take it easy,” he mumbled. He rolled over and buried his face against Keith’s thigh, letting his breath spread over his skin.

Keith frowned, his own breathing quickening. “That was a long time ago,” he said, drawing his eyes away from the portable to look at Lance.

“It was like four days ago,” Lance said, sleep and annoyance thick in his voice. “Lie back down.”

“That was before I told you the truth,” Keith replied as Lance’s fingers tried to creep upwards to tug on the sheet that was underneath him to pull it forward. Keith shoved it away, deciding not to further Lance’s ego or encourage his ministrations by looking at him.

_Step 1: Acquire ship._

Lance decided to retaliate by tightening his grip over Keith’s legs, pulling them closer together. He swayed, sighing loudly and dropping the portable onto the bed beside him.

“I talked to Pidge and she said it was impossible for you to have recovered this quickly,” Lance said, pouting. He grabbed Keith’s now-free hand, fingering the medical bracelet that was tight around his wrist. “That drug or whatever they pumped into you has to have side effects.”

“They would know if it was causing hallucinations.” Keith let Lance turn his wrist around; he squinted at the small, glowing screen at the base of the bracelet. Keith spoke up again before Lance could protest about his motivations. “Or anything else.”

His body was still tingling from sleep; an unusual, pleasant sensation all over his skin. Lance hadn’t let him go once since they’d fell into bed together last night.

He was becoming not only emotionally compromised, but also physically.

Lance released his wrist, dropping his arm back to Keith’s lap. “I don’t trust it. You couldn’t have just hit your head and begun hallucinating. I looked it up.”

Keith picked up his portable again and continued typing.

_Options: O.K.’s ship? (Ask Lance), Shiro’s ship, training ship, hide in merchant ship_

“Yes, you can,” he retorted.

“They would’ve caught with all of the other examinations they did,” Lance said, backtracking. “There could be other side effects that haven’t shown yet.”

“Except there aren’t, because I’m not hallucinating.”

“I said they haven’t shown yet.” Lance launched himself upwards, nuzzling his cheek to Keith’s shoulder. His hair tickled Keith’s neck and jaw, just like how it had all night while they were sleeping. He tried to squirm away as best as he could without dislodging Lance completely, feeling his neck flush.

It was a natural reaction to the closeness, but he didn’t want Lance to get the wrong idea.

“Don’t you have class soon?” Keith asked, wincing as he felt Lance shift beside him, hypersensitive to his movements. He didn’t know how he’d been able to sleep through most of the night with Lance like this.

“An hour isn’t soon.” Lance opened one eye and looked down at the portable with him. “What’s this?”

Keith almost shut the cover, but he hesitated when his thumb pressed against the screen. He’d have to tell Lance later anyways.

“I’m trying to figure out how we can get to Blue without being expelled.”

“Can’t I just piggy-back you there?”

Keith tabbed out of his note and opened up the image of the map he’d saved yesterday. Lance lifted his head more, resting his jaw on Keith’s shoulder.

“This is where the cave is,” he said, pointing to the two lines where the cave’s coordinates met. “And the Garrison isn’t even close to being on this map.”

Lance squeezed him, laughing dryly. “Well, you can’t be thinking about piloting us there yourself. Right?”

The way Lance spoke told him that it was more of an uncertain joke than a serious inquiry. “Of course I am. I have to. How else would we get there?”

“Uh, we don’t?” Lance said in a matter-of-fact voice.

“Lance,” Keith sighed, prying Lance’s fingers off him and pushing him away. The loss of his body heat was mourned greatly, but he valued making his point far more. “You promised—”

Lance’s face scrunched up, his lower lip jutting out in quiet dissatisfaction. “You can’t fly it. You almost died—”

“And yet I’m still alive,” Keith cut him off dryly. “I’m not going to let us die. I know how to pilot a ship well enough to get us across Earth. I could get us to the other side of the galaxy too, but I don’t think you want me to go that far.”

Lance gaped at him, even more than horrified, judging by his expression. “I would rather you go back to the medbay.”

“So, in comparison, going somewhere on Earth isn’t that bad,” Keith said, going back to his note.

Fly ship out from area with little-no supervision. If possible, stage routine flight to get to private location before taking off properly.

Lance rolled away from him, covering his face with his arms. “I can’t believe I’m considering this,” he grumbled.

“We’ll be fine if you listen to my instructions.” Without thinking, he patted Lance’s head comfortingly, attempting to dissuade any protests he might have. Lance rubbed against his hand like a cat, a cheshire grin spreading over his face.

“Hey.” He turned and kissed Keith’s palm. Keith jerked his hand back, choking. “Now you’re the one trying to distract me.”

Keith didn’t have a good answer for that, both out of shock and because it was true. “You’re distracting me,” he countered, forcing his eyes back onto the portable. He couldn’t concentrate. Multitasking wasn’t usually so difficult for him.

Lance laughed, leaning against him again. “You’re easily distractible,” he said.

“You do realize I’m doing something important here, right?”

“I know.” He smirked, then grabbed Keith’s jaw, turning him by his cheek so they were looking at each other. Keith’s eyes widened, but he didn’t move, frozen in place. His hand grazed over Keith’s shoulder lightly, inching back and forth over his skin. “Can I get a good morning kiss at least?”

Every day was a new day when it came to Lance’s confidence in their relationship; after last night, it looked like today was a ‘confidence’ day. It felt like something was different compared to the other times they had argued. Lance had been putting far too much pressure on himself, thinking he was responsible for Keith being put into a coma. Now that he could readily ask for Keith’s reassurance, he thought, and hoped, that Lance would be more open.

Keith glowered, mostly out of embarrassment. “Are you not going to leave until you get it?” he asked to make things difficult. He already knew he was going to end up giving in.

Lance’s lips were puckered, struggling not to break into another smile.

“Alright,” Keith groaned. Lance kissed him before he could even move, pressing him against the headboard; Keith closed his eyes, basking in the sensation. His hand slid into Keith’s hair, brushing over the nape of his neck, and every place that he pressed was left tingling in his wake.

Keith kissed back as best as he knew how, directed by Lance’s tongue over his bottom lip, settling into a slow, steady rhythm of Lance’s lips sliding along his. He tilted his head, gasping for air, and Lance quieted him, sucking on his lip, tough enough to swell. Warmth twisted over his body, furthered by Lance’s other hand, the fingernails that were scraping over his back.

“God,” Lance whispered against his lips. His voice rattled Keith’s brain and his eyes flew open.

He was kissing Lance and enjoying it. He was kissing Lance and enjoying it when he was supposed to be working on a plan to bring Lance’s actual boyfriend home.

Shoving Lance away, he rushed to put space in between them, even if it was only a fraction. Their bed wasn’t very large. “I’m working,” he said, amazed at how pathetic his own excuse was. His vision was slightly blurry, the edges spiralling, and all he could focus on was Lance’s lips and how they had a little bit of his spit on them.

“You don’t need to be shy.” Lance licked his lips.

“That’s not the problem here,” Keith said sharply. Whenever they kissed he was left with the same feeling of shame.

How was he ever going to be able to face his world’s Lance, who was his very platonic friend, after making out with him another universe?

“We don’t need to have this conversation every time we do anything mildly affectionate,” Lance agonized, planting his hand on the bed in between them, an open request for Keith to take. “I’m tired of it.”

“It doesn’t really matter if you’re tired of it. It’s an important conversation,” he said, irritated. It was bizarre that Lance didn’t care at all about the moral repercussions of their actions.

“We’re dating,” Lance replied, his default response to whenever Keith tried to say anything reasonable. “You said we weren’t breaking up, and you don’t seem to want to.”

“That was also before I told you the truth. You can’t take things I said when I was pretending to be someone else against me.”

Lance’s mouth went wide and he gaped at him, long and hard, speechless. “So you’re saying that we’re not together.”

Keith rested his head against the wall, pushing himself up to sit up properly. “You have some kind of listening issue. I’m just saying that—we can’t do this because—”

“Because you’re embarrassed?” Lance interjected. “Because you don’t remember how to be affectionate? I don’t care. I don’t care about that. We can go as slow or as fast as you want. But you can’t keep kissing me back and then freaking out!”

His hand twitched in between them, fingers flexing and tugging at the sheets. Keith stared, fixated.

“I’m not embarrassed. I do have a moral compass, on the other hand.”

“Oh, don’t kid yourself,” Lance huffed. “Every time we kiss you get hot and bothered, even if it’s just a peck. Personally, I think it’s adorable. By far the best part—the only good part—about you forgetting everything.”

Keith’s eye twitched and, against the will of his mind, his face went warm, from his neck to his ears. “I—”

“If you don’t want to kiss, that’s fine. That’s why I asked in the first place, so you could say ‘no’ if you wanted. Just remember you’re the one who keeps going back on your word.”

After another tense moment, Lance retracted his hand and climbed off the bed, shoulders slumped and pained. He bit his lip, but purposely avoided Keith’s gaze.

Lance had tended to be right about the state of their relationship. It was that Keith hated acknowledging it; he despised knowing how human he was against him. In the beginning, he’d wanted things to be robotic, mechanical. Lance would answer his questions and not inquire as to anything he was doing.

Except Keith was a fool. Lance was the most dynamic person he knew, and keeping things from him only made everything worse. He should’ve told him from the beginning. Then, Lance wouldn’t distrust him so much, putting weight into things that he had said while he was scrambling to act like this world’s Keith.

In a flash, he had his hand on Lance’s wrist. He pressed their fingers together clumsily. Lance’s were longer, like a spider, instinctively curling around his.

“Wait,” Keith called. “Wait.”

“Whatever you’re about to do, are you sure you aren’t going to get mad at me for it after?” Lance said, turning slightly to look at him.

Keith’s stomach curled anxiously, mostly out of the knowledge that he deserved it. Lance had been pestering him all morning, but it was out of genuine concern for him. He understood it, somewhat; whenever Lance had been injured while they were fighting, Keith felt the urge to nag him as well.

He bit the inside of his cheek. It was natural for him to try and brush off all of Lance’s loving comments and actions, yet it only hurt them both. And the more Lance hurt, the more he lost his sensibility. He didn’t want Lance to go off and sulk.

“Yes,” Keith said. “You can remind me of that later.”

Quickly, before Lance could move, he put the portable on the table again, a safe enough distance that it wouldn’t fall over. When he looked back, Lance was on the bed again.

Pushing him down, they were in the same position as yesterday; Keith on his back, Lance over him, eyes half-lidded and mouth open. Keith gasped without meaning to when Lance kissed him, careful and slow, barely a fraction of the same roughness he had a few moments ago.

Keith’s hands tugged at Lance’s hair and he shut his eyes, falling into the sensation of Lance peppering kisses over his lips. His mouth was hot and wet, but it wasn’t overbearing. The only overwhelming thing was the force of Keith’s heart, so loud that he was sure Lance would be able to hear it.

“I want this,” Lance mumbled, his lips touching Keith’s as he spoke. “You think I’m going to regret it, but I’m not. I love you, fuck, Keith, I love you so much.”

“You can’t be sure of that,” Keith answered half-heartedly, wanting Lance to keep kissing him.

“Why do you think I can’t make my own choices?” Lance asked, tone edging on angry, but then he sighed, putting his hands over Keith’s and guiding them to his face. Lance’s cheeks were soft, softer than he’d ever imagined. Lance smiled at him, more warmly than he deserved. “You want it. I want it.”

“Because you don’t understand.”

Lance kissed over Keith’s jaw instead, practically purring. Keith slanted his head back, panting into the quiet air. Lance bit down on the underside of his chin, then spoke, lips skimming Keith’s ear.

“I understand a lot more than you think,” he murmured. “I know you feel lost. I know you’re hiding things. I know you think a lot of things that aren't true. I know _you_ , Keith.”

“I’m not the same,” he started, and Lance took his mouth opening as an invitation to kiss him. Keith’s hands ran all over Lance’s back, any protest dying in his throat as Lance tentatively scraped his teeth along Keith’s lips, a strange feeling that made Keith’s gut tighten, leaving him shifting restlessly.

“I know that too,” Lance laughed thinly. “I love you even despite how ridiculous you’re acting right now. That’s how foolish I am.”

He ran his thumb over Keith’s lips, locking eyes with him.

For an instant, Keith wished that he was this world’s Keith, that he really was hallucinating, because the love in Lance’s tangible. Like he could reach out and grab it for himself. Bottle it up and bring it back home with him.

“This is stupid,” Keith said, rather than anything smart. He was being counterproductive against his own cause now.

His real cause, that was. Not the cause of his body, which was telling him to jump Lance despite not knowing what that entailed.

“I know I am,” Lance said. “Can I ask you something? And you have to answer honestly.”

Lance pinched his cheek lightly, then sat up, hoisting Keith onto his lap. Keith wobbled, holding onto Lance’s arms for balance. Lance’s hot breath trembled over the skin on his neck.

“Do you love me?” Lance asked, glancing up at him.

He played with the bottom of Keith’s shirt, creeping his fingers upwards every few moments before retracting, a diversion tactic that he didn’t want to lose. Keith screwed his eyes shut, trying to process Lance’s question.

It wasn’t the first time Lance had asked, except that each time carried a different meaning, and each answer he gave turned out differently.

“You’re one of my closest friends. I don’t think I could live without you.”

Lance’s eyes flickered aimlessly around the room before coming to rest on the wall behind Keith. He propped his chin on Keith’s shoulder, burying his nose into his hair.

“It’s okay if you say ‘no’.”

“I,” Keith said, fighting with himself to find the right words. There were none that could ever convey how simultaneously guilty and wanton he felt. “I already said I do.”

“That was before you told me the truth,” Lance quoted Keith from earlier. “I want to know your real answer.”

He grazed his nails over Keith’s scalp and Keith melted, groaning from both frustration and satisfaction against Lance’s neck.

“I’m not going to be mad. I—You not saying anything back kind of already answers the question, you know.”

“It’s not the same,” Keith whispered, tilting his head back against the slow movement of Lance’s fingers. “I love you, but not—”

“Like that,” Lance finished for him, interjecting. “It’s okay. I don’t—I don’t want there to be secrets in between us.”

Keith held back his laughter. There were a lot of secrets in between them, as far as Keith’s end went. “You were the last person I saw when I thought I was going to die, out in space, you know. I was going to die happy, knowing you were okay.”

Lance’s hand stilled, drawing instead through his hair, brushing it with his fingers. It was like an anxious reflex.

“I don’t understand why your brain would make up a scenario where we aren’t dating,” Lance said, every word coming out as a flutter against his collarbone.

“Because it’s not just a scenario. It’s real,” Keith answered. They were beginning to go back in circles again, but Keith’s body was still burning for Lance to keep touching him, defying all of the things he’d said previously.

“Yeah,” Lance said automatically. Defiantly, he lifted his head and kissed Keith softly. “Can I touch you here?”

He moved his hands over Keith’s stomach again; the muscles underneath his skin flexed in response, his back arching slightly, sharp with heat.

Keith moaned. “You’re going to help me later?”

“Mmmm,” Lance hummed.

Nodding, Keith kissed him back. Lance ran his palms all over Keith’s chest and, without even realizing it, Keith was bucking up into him, rutting against his thighs and his strokes. He bit his lip when Lance pressed, barely, onto one of the hardened nipples on his chest.

“It’s okay if you don’t remember,” Lance kissed over his neck, sucking and biting softly. “It’s okay even if you don’t love me in the same way.”

“How is that okay?” Keith practically hissed, angered at Lance’s lack of regard for his own emotions, a painful feeling in the midst of the pleasant feeling of Lance groping his chest, kissing his skin.

“How we’re together at all is kind of a miracle. Doing it again a second time shouldn’t be a problem,” Lance chuckled, music to Keith’s ears.

Keith grabbed Lance’s wrists, stopping him, even if every nerve in his body was screaming at him to let Lance continue.

“You have class,” he whispered. Lance paused, extracting his face from where it was hovering over Keith’s neck.

Keith wanted to scream at himself for ending it; he bottled that side up in the dark part of his mind and mentally threw away the key. It was much easier to think when Lance wasn’t touching him anymore.

“Oh, shit,” Lance practically yelped. He gently extracted Keith off of his lap and hurried off the bed. “That was evil.”

It was a cop-out by Keith.

Lance pulled out his clothes from the closet. He began to take his shirts off right in front of Keith and Keith hastily looked away, less out of respect and more because he wasn’t sure how much self-control he had. He could still feel Lance’s hands on his chest.

After Lance put on all of his clothes and rapidly brushed his teeth, he stopped by the bed and scooped Keith up, kissing him at the corner of his lips.

“Just remember,” Lance said. “I love you.”

As if Keith would ever be able to forget.

Once Lance left, he rolled onto his stomach, hid his face into his pillow, and yelled at whoever’s bullshit idea it was to put him through this.

******

_Step 1: Acquire ship._

_Options: O.K.’s ship? (Ask Lance), Shiro’s ship, training ship, hide in merchant ship_  
_Fly ship out from area with little-no supervision. If possible, stage routine flight to get to private location before taking off properly.  
_ _Might have to hack into Garrison security in order to take training ship, if unable to use O.K.’s ship or a training ship._

_Step 2: Leave without anyone knowing._

_Specifically: Friends.  
_ _Make up an excuse. Have Lance corroborate it. Put something in front of door._

_Step 3: Fly._

_Should easily have enough fuel to get there and back. If not, there’s a Garrison fueling station outside of the nearest village that can be used.  
_ _Trip should take total around 1 hour. Must go slow else Garrison satellites will catch the movement of the missing ship._

_Step 4: Get Blue._

_Same as always._

_Step 5: ????_

“I like step five the best,” Lance said.

Keith swiped the portable back from him. “Step five depends on what happens after we get Blue. We’ll need to determine how exactly the switch occurred, so we can reverse it.”

“Have you ever thought about where we’re going to hide a supposedly massive lion, if it does exist, which it doesn’t?” Lance asked, leaning over to try and look at the screen again.

“Well,” Keith said unsteadily, turning the screen away. The longer that Lance looked at it, the more doubts he would have. Keith could just tell. “We don’t necessarily need to take her. It’s just proof so that you’ll know I’m being honest.”

“It’s not an issue of whether or not you’re being honest,” Lance frowned, giving up and retreating back to his spot across from Keith on the bed.

“So you’ll know I’m right,” he corrected. “Happy?”

Lance flopped down, staring at the ceiling. His legs nudged Keith’s side. “Your ship was the one that crashed, but I know of another one we can use.”

“What?”

Propping himself up on his elbows, Lance grinned. “I’ll tell you if you give me a kiss?”

Keith leaned in and kissed him easily, holding onto Lance’s knees to reach him. Lance blushed and Keith sat back again, secretly proud of himself.

“We can use mine.”

“I thought you weren’t a real pilot,” Keith said, remembering one of the first conversations they’d had when he’d woken up.

“Okay, wow, way to rub it in,” Lance pouted. “I’m not, but I have a training ship. It’s pretty clunky, but I know how to fly it.”

“That’s fine. As long as it can fly low to the ground, I can deal with that.”

Lance tilted his head. “You do realize that the last half of that sentence was me implying that I would be the one actually doing the flying, right?”

“Absolutely not,” Keith said, glaring at him. “I have to be the one to pilot it. You won’t know where to go.”

Lance raised his hand, counting out his points. “One, let me remind you for the second time today that it’s been less than a week and a half since you were in a coma, because you almost died in a ship crash. You cannot pilot a ship after that. I feel like this is something you’re severely underestimating. Two, I can just look up the coordinates myself and use a map, so that’s a bad reason and you know it. Tree, I don’t like what you’re implying about my intelligence.” He laughed, but his gaze was intense; Keith understood he was serious, at least about the first two points.

The argument he would’ve used before was that Lance had been the one doing the actual piloting during the crash, but knowing how much pressure Lance had already put on himself for it, he let it slide. “None of those things restrict my own ability to fly.”

“I’m ninety-nine percent sure that almost dying can do that to a person, actually. That’s why you’re not back in class.”

Keith pinched the bridge of his nose, shutting the cover on the portable and sliding it underneath his pillow. “What if we take turns? Me there, you back.”

If everything went well, Lance would be far too confused and excited to be able to fly, and Keith would end up flying them both ways. He didn’t doubt Lance’s ability to fly—he’d seen it more than a thousand times, now. He just didn’t want Lance to unintentionally sabotage him, or crashing them into a mountain during the most pivotal point of Keith’s plan so far.

“Me there, you back.” Lance held out his pinky.

“Why?” Keith asked.

“I don’t know, I just wanted to be difficult,” Lance joked. Keith stared at him blankly and Lance sighed, waving his hand in the air. “Fine, fine. Deal.”

Keith grinned at him and took Lance’s pinky in his own, content with how easy it had been to get Lance to agree. He’d expected a little more fight from him.

Lance must’ve still been recovering from what they’d done earlier. Keith knew he was. He had to carefully avoid looking at Lance’s mouth, or his lips, or even his eyes for too long. Each occasion they were intimate left a larger gap in his conscious and rationality.

Thinking of it created the same tug of war battle in his mind as it always did, a split between what was steadfastly becoming what he wanted, and what he knew he had to do.

Lance smiled back. “You’re going to owe me so much shit when this is all over.”

“You seem excited,” Keith said, eyebrows raising.

“I’m excited to fly. And I’m excited to get this over with so we can deal with the real issue here, which is you not remembering how great we are together.”

He inched closer to Lance. He didn’t want to be, but he was nervously excited too; to fly, to see Blue.

The issue came with the fact that both of those concepts became better with the phrase ‘with Lance’ tacked on the end. That just gave him flat-out nervousness, sans the excitement.

“We will,” Keith promised, entirely different from what Lance meant.

“You haven’t accounted for the weather, though. Not to mention…” Lance trailed on and on, giving Keith a list of complaints he had about his plan, none of which were actually genuine. Lance had already agreed, not once but almost half a dozen times, literally and just by helping Keith plan it out.

Ultimately, Lance’s complaints died, and he wrapped Keith in his arms and kissed him straight on the mouth. They tumbled underneath the sheets together together, mouths never parting for more than a centimeter. Lance quieted him each time he tried to protest, murmuring softly that he’d already done everything possible already, that he had to _relax_.

Lance was only so calm because he hadn’t told him everything. He hadn’t revealed how much information he’d discovered about this world’s Keith, or what Shiro had revealed to him.

Keith would much, much rather kiss Lance, though, and let him drag his thoughts away from the uncertainty he had about their post-mission future.

He could figure everything else out later.

That, too, sounded better with ‘with Lance’ at the end of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a few chapters ago, i split the chapter up into two, so that bumped the chapter count of this fic from 22 to 23. this chapter (16) was supposed to be a lot heavier, but it's now going to be in the next chapter. :P
> 
> thank you, as usual, to everyone who commented! :D i love you all. and everyone who doesn't comment, too. it actually scares me a little how many people are reading this fic sometimes, but in a good way.
> 
> talk to me on [tumblr](http://koizumi.tumblr.com)!


	17. Chapter 17

“Shiro keeps messaging me,” Lance sighed.

Keith looked over at him. Lance was typing on his portable, lip curling inwards as he read over Shiro’s messages. Keith hadn’t even known Lance had a portable before this. He’d never seen him use it before.

“Well, tell him to stop,” Keith said, turning back around. Pressing as hard as he could against the wall, he looked around the corner.

There were two professors talking in front of the door that lead to the main garage where all the ships were kept, as well as one guard who was clearly eavesdropping on them.

“He doesn’t care!” Lance’s fingers moved faster. Keith could hear every loud tap he made. “He said that he needs you to message him right now. ‘Right now’ in all capitals.”

“Can you be a little quieter?” Keith asked, trying not to frown and make Lance even more annoyed than he already was. They were both high-strung with anxiety, and the more frustrated that Lance got, the more frustrated he was getting as well. And it was only going to get worse as they went through the night. Keith had to keep his head together.

“I told him we were in the middle of something so he’d lay off.” Lance shut his portable and went on his toes, looking over the top of Keith’s head to see over the corner.

“Something?” 

“I don’t think you want to know.”

Keith elbowed Lance, shoving him back around the corner. “We need to wait for the professors to leave so it’s just the guard there. Your key is ready?”

“You’ve only asked me a dozen times.” Lance twirled his ship’s key around his finger, smirking. “I have so much power over you right now.”

“Lance,” Keith glared at him. “This is serious.”

“Yeah, yeah. Because giant, sentient robotic lions are so serious, right? Come to think of it, you did start watching a cartoon a few months ago. Maybe it’s seeped into your memories. I know the plan is serious, I’m not going to purposely fuck it up.”

Keith clamped his hand over Lance’s mouth, silencing him. One of the professors, wearing a jacket emblazoned half a dozen medals of honour, walked by, not sparing them a glance as he turned the opposite way.

“What did I just say about being too loud?” He removed his hand before Lance could lick his palm. “That doesn’t even make sense. It’s not only my memories that are altered from your point of view, it’s my whole history.”

“Details,” Lance brushed him off. There was a ‘ding’ and Keith had to shut his eyes to steel himself from yelling. “Oops.”

“Put it in silent mode.”

“It’s Pidge this time. She said she needs to see you ‘right now’.”

“Well, tell her the same thing you told Shiro.” Keith looked around the corner again. The other professor was talking on his phone, loitering in front of the doorway. Who did that?

Lance glanced at him warily. “I don’t think they believe me.”

“Then make up a better excuse. They don’t believe you because it’s not plausible.”

While Lance typed back, Keith ran over his plan for the umpteenth time in his head. Lance would pose as a hard-working student and board his ship, then bring it to the back of the Garrison to pick up Keith. They’d then swap places, as per their agreement of letting Keith pilot them first, and fly around the training grounds for a few moments in case their presence alerted any watchful guards or towers.

And then, after a suitable amount of time, they’d slip out of the Garrison’s range.

The Garrison received signals from everywhere, but as long as they flew close enough to the ground that they wouldn’t be picked up on, it should be fine. No one would be checking for a random student’s training ship. The trip wouldn’t take long enough for anyone to tell they were gone.

“She said ‘right now’ in all capitals. Do you think they’re plotting this together?”

“Christ,” Keith waved vaguely in Lance’s direction. “Tell her we’ll speak to them in an hour or two.”

“We… will… be done in… an hour… or two,” Lance said out loud. His tongue poked out of his mouth in concentration. “Sent.”

“Great,” Keith said sarcastically. “In a few seconds, you’ll need to get past the guard. You remember what you’re going to say?”

“Again, only a dozen times, babe,” Lance said, grinning cheekily for a moment. 

Today was another ‘confidence’ day, from what Keith could tell, despite how visibly nervous they both were. Their relationship was something that Lance got comfort out of; Keith supposed he only had himself to blame for Lance’s current behavior. 

Rubbing his arm, he cringed. “Don’t call me that.”

Lance made a face like he was offended. “I don’t get why you hate ‘babe’. Would you prefer ‘honey’?”

Keith shoved him. Not hard enough to make him stumble, but hopefully hard enough that he got the message. “Focus, Lance.”

“I just,” Lance wobbled, then moved closer, letting their shoulders touch. “I don’t like this,” he said, tone shifting to serious. “What if you get hurt? Or start having more hallucinations while you’re flying? There’s too many things that could go wrong.”

“No one is going to get hurt.” Keith patted Lance’s arm lightly, steering himself around the corner one last time; he could hear the footsteps of the other professor as he walked away. “Okay, he’s gone.”

Keith kept his eyes on the guard that was sitting in front of the door. Once Lance got in, he’d walk to the back—walking partially because it would draw less attention, but also because he still couldn’t run without a shot of pain running up the muscle in his leg. He may have healed miraculously, but his body wasn’t without its agonizing complaints when he tried to be too strenuous.

When Lance didn’t move, Keith kicked him. “Lance?”

“Sorry!” Lance squeaked, jumping away from him. “Pidge messaged me back. She said to tell you it’s about your coma.” He lowered his portable. “What does that mean?”

Bristling, Keith continually glanced around the corner. The guard hadn’t noticed them yet, but he didn’t want to stand around and waste time when their friends were looking for them.

“I don’t know. Tell her you’ll keep messaging her when we’re done.”

“I… will message… you… when we are… finished… I’m… a little busy… right now…” Lance muttered to himself, back to typing on his portable.

Keith stifled a groan of anguish at how slow he was. “Are you done yet?”

“And… send.” Lance shoved his portable into the bag that hung around his shoulder. “Now I am. Okay, I’ll just… go up now, I guess.”

Lance tugged him closer by his shoulder, giving him a brief kiss. Both of them blushed as they parted and Lance hurried to the guard.

“Hi, yeah, I have my card here… No, I’m just going to go fly around the training grounds. Yes, I have access level two, it literally says that on the card…”

Lance still had his doubts, but Keith was sure he’d execute the plan fine. As he walked away, Lance’s voice got smaller and smaller, until he couldn’t hear it at all.

It’d be a few minutes, most likely, before Lance brought the ship around. He couldn’t go back to his room, in case Shiro or Pidge were there, and he couldn’t simply wander around the Academy in case a doctor or nurse saw him and ushered him back to his room.

He began to walk straight to the back of the Garrison, kicking his feet over the ground, letting his thoughts wander. It was never a good thing, but he hadn’t had much time to think by himself in general in the past few days. Even when Lance wasn’t with him, his thoughts were preoccupied with visions of him.

It wasn’t an entirely bad thing, from an objective standpoint. Lance’s life was irreplaceable in this world’s Keith’s. In order to get into his mindset, he had to think of Lance.

He had to keep telling himself these things so he wouldn’t go mad with regret.

He passed by the hallway that lead back to the dorms. It was still fascinating to him how he and Lance lived together. He was too afraid to ask for the full story of how that had happened. Privately, he expected it was because of a considerable misuse of power.

They’d locked their door before leaving, both the traditional lock that Lance never used and the electronic one. Keith had insisted on shoving a chair in front of the door, just in case someone (read: Pidge) got feisty and tried to break in if they realized he and Lance were gone.

And he’d suspected correctly, apparently, judging by the messages Lance had relayed to him.

Lance had said that Pidge wanted to talk to him about his coma. That could mean countless things: she actually did want to talk about his coma; or maybe it was about his health in general, she seemed rather fixated on that; the worst case scenario would be that she suspected he wasn’t really Keith. He didn’t want any of them to know until Lance completely trusted him and could back him up properly. The others wouldn’t take as kindly to Keith walking around ‘hallucinating’.

He sighed into the open air, pushing back the doors to the Garrison’s backyard. It wasn’t a backyard in a traditional sense, but a massive open field used for docking ships temporarily, transporting goods, and outdoor training. The cool air made his skin prickle when he stepped onto the grass, and he realized he hadn’t been outside in a week. Or a little over a month, depending on the timeline.

Rubbing his arms, he leaned against a wall and ducked his head away from the nearby camera. 

Notwithstanding their excitement to get it over with, Lance’s agitation and worry was rubbing off on him, even if they were worrying about different things. He didn’t need to feel nervous, he knew that. Everything was going to work out, and in spite of not having a proper plan after they got to Blue, it was better than sitting around in bed doing nothing.

Automatically, he stretched out his leg. The worst possible scenario would be that it began cramping when he was trying to fly, prohibiting him from sitting properly and alerting Lance to it. They wouldn’t end up completing their trip if he knew.

He shut his eyes as the wind blew faster. The flaps of his jacket hit his sides and he held them down. He’d managed to fish out the same jacket he usually wore in his world from their closet, albeit it was significantly less worn and dirtied. Curling it around himself, he continued to wait.

Lance’s ship touched down a few minutes later. He’d been right when he had said that it wasn’t a beauty. Keith had seen the same models sold in sketchy marketplaces on far-off planets, advertised as ‘human junk’. But it wasn’t like they were going out of Earth’s atmosphere, so he took Lance’s hand when he held it out, climbing onto the ship.

The interior was frigid, lacking the personal touch that he’d imagined Lance would like to put on his ship, or the soothing feel that their lions had. 

He hadn’t been in a ship like this in months. It was either the castle, which was filled with their things and felt like home, or Red, who wrapped around him like a blanket, shielding and guiding him. This ship lacked the support that they had. He felt winded, walking into such an empty space.

“Keith?” Lance hadn’t let go of his hand yet. “Are you okay?”

Keith breathed in deeply, looking at Lance. “Yeah. I was just thinking.” He brushed off his hand and went to the front of the ship. The seat was lower than in Red and the dashboard was much smaller, lacking the defensive measures that she had. His usual placement was to have one hand over the stick to steer and the other over the button to shoot, but as he sat down on the rigid seat, he realized he didn’t know where to place his hands.

“You don’t look okay,” Lance said, hurrying to his side. “Maybe we shouldn’t do this right now.”

“You were the one who was excited about it,” Keith snapped, much more harshly than what was necessary. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

Lance flinched, dropping his hand to Keith’s shoulder and sitting down beside him on the floor. He placed his cheek on Keith’s arm. “I’m excited to help you get better, yeah. But I don’t want you to force yourself. We’re already doing something that could get us killed.” He moved his hand to brush away some of the hair that was sticking to his cheek, tousled by the wind. 

“We’re flying on Earth, nothing is going to kill us.” He scanned the dashboard, spotting the steering stick, which was more like a knob than a stick. He put his left hand on it and settled for putting his right one on the fuel control—something he never had to worry about in Red.

Lance ran his palm up and down Keith’s cheek, stroking his temple with his thumb.

“What are you doing?” he asked, frowning. Was Lance intentionally trying to distract him?

“This is just so,” Lance began, laughing lethargically. “It’s just so fucked up that you’re getting so worked up over something that doesn’t exist, and I’m letting you. I know I promised, and I know it’s the only way you’re ever going to stop talking about it, but…”

“You’ve said that before,” Keith said, waiting for Lance to stand back up so he could lift them off the ground. 

“I should’ve stopped this a long time ago,” Lance continued, then stood up. He leaned over and, using the hand that was on Keith’s cheek, brushed his hair back and kissed his forehead. It brought an eerily satisfying flush to his face, warming him in the coolness of the ship. “I’m sorry.”

“You need to stop apologizing for things that aren’t your fault.” Keith prodded him lightly with his elbow. Lance got the message and took a step back, leaning against the wall and holding onto a shelf for balance.

Looking out through the glass, he thought about Blue. She was waiting for him, and it wasn’t just a guess now. He could feel her—she wasn’t his lion, but she’d always been rather welcoming, especially in comparison to Red. He could feel her energy like a mask, shielding his fears, from all directions. 

Her presence, however small, quenched the uneasiness that he had about their mission. He couldn’t let Lance’s words get to him, not when he was living, physical proof of the impossible existing.

They took off, the ship creaking as its engine ramped up, shaking the cabin. 

“Oh, it does that too,” Lance said belatedly. Keith rolled his eyes and flew them over to the training grounds.

They were empty, as they should be at midnight. He set his ship on cruise and set its path to circle around the pillars that marked ‘obstacles’ for the Academy’s students.

“I’ll let it run for twenty minutes or so,” Keith said, noting the amount of fuel that was in the ship. He wanted to try and avoid making a fuel stop when their friends were waiting for them.

“That’s so loooong,” Lance slumped onto the ground, crawling towards Keith. “Can I have the seat?”

“Why?” Keith frowned. God forbid Lance take over the controls and just bring them right back to the Garrison’s entrance.

“My legs hurt,” Lance replied smoothly. After an excruciatingly long minute of Lance looking at him like he was burning his crops, Keith let Lance sit down in his place.

Instantaneously, Lance wrapped his arms around Keith’s waist and pulled him down onto his lap. 

“What are you doing?” he griped, trying to tug Lance’s grip off of him, but Lance was hanging on tightly. He grinned at him, chin resting on Keith’s shoulder.

“Now we can both sit down,” he said boldly.

Keith decided to look out at the night sky rather than at Lance’s stupid, smiling face. “You’re a nuisance,” he mumbled, ceasing his struggles.

Lance’s arms felt nice and secure around him. The feeling of Lance’s chest pressed to his back brought him back to their bed, napping and cuddling in the sun before Lance had to go to class.

“Your nuisance,” Lance hummed, kissing underneath his ear.

Keith canted his head away from him. “You can’t do this while I’m flying.”

“Relax,” Lance said, going back to cuddling his back. “You said we have twenty minutes.”

“Eighteen, now,” Keith corrected.

“I want to spend time with you in the calm before the storm.” Lance tickled his waist. “Is that so bad?”

Sucking back a laugh, Keith scowled at him. “You keep changing your opinion on this.”

“Nothing has changed,” Lance puffed out, tickling Keith’s spine. “I’m happy to get it over with. I’m not looking forward to the inevitable freak out you’re going to have.”

“You need to be preparing yourself for one.” Keith gently turned the steering knob to occupy his hand, reversing the ship’s path. “Blue is pretty big.”

“Sure it is.” Lance didn’t laugh, but he did smile; Keith could feel it. 

“She’s practically sentient. I don’t think she’d appreciate you calling her an ‘it’.”

“Sentient lions,” Lance sighed. “Travelling universes. Fighting aliens. I wish my dreams were as cool as yours are, as long as they stayed as dreams and not full-time memories.”

Keith squeezed his head against the back of the seat, beside Lance’s. Lance’s fingers inched over his stomach, keeping him still.

“I’m worried about you,” Lance whispered. “And it’s easier to make fun of it then think about how we’re going to deal with this after.”

Keith knew that sentiment well. Step five in his portable had never been filled out. There were a dozen things he could’ve put, ranging from telling Lance about the scratch marks to using Blue to take off from the Garrison in search of clues outside of it. But everything seemed too drastic and uncertain.

“Blue will help us,” Keith promised. Their lions had saved them before and he prayed that she would be willing to aid them somehow. “And we’ll figure it out.”

They lapsed into silence. Lance was undoubtedly displeased by his reply, his movements slowing over Keith’s stomach until they were simply sitting and waiting for the ship’s module to run its course.

Outside, the stars twinkled brightly. The view from Earth paled in comparison to many of the planets Keith had visited, but the Garrison was in an area with little pollution, and there were no clouds outside tonight. He was hundreds of thousands of light years away from where he had died fighting the Galra, in another world, fooling around with another version of one of his best friends.

Being outside, flying again with Lance—none of those things should feel as foreign as they did.

He’d thought about home less and less in the past few days. It made him too nostalgic and only worsened his guilt, which he had determined as being some weird, messed up version of survivor’s guilt, combined with the fact the odd tingle that he got whenever Lance touched him.

His Lance wouldn’t hug him in the same way that the Lance holding onto him now would. He hadn’t thought much about how he would be able to talk to him normally after this, aside from a few alarming flashes of Lance avoiding him out of awkwardness that left him battling off dread that he didn’t want to feel.

They were the same people, Keith and Lance, but their relationship set them apart. His Lance would never consider a romantic relationship with him. They were too preoccupied with fighting, too focused on getting the perfect amount of teamwork and privacy, too concerned over their families and friends. Or, at least, Lance was; Keith didn’t have the same type of family Lance did. His family consisted of Shiro and a few people back on Earth who probably didn’t even remember him.

The most striking similarity between this world’s Lance and his Lance was their passion. For everything, really. Lance was passionate about their work, saving people and fighting, no matter how much of a fuss he put up. He loved his friends. This Lance was the same, except part of the passion was fixated on him, too.

He recalled Lance holding out his hand again, something he’d been trying to push out of his mind for days. He wondered if he’d reached out and grabbed it, or if Pidge had been able to scoop him up in time. One of the two things had to have happened, if the other Keith was in his place. The sensation of his throat constricting from the lack of oxygen came back to him in a flash, just as vivid as it had been when he had been floating.

He brought his hands up to his throat, just in case, and breathed in deeply. His head was beginning to throb with the familiar pain of a migraine.

“Keith?” Lance brushed his hair back. “What’s wrong?”

Shaking, he lowered his hands. “Nothing,” he mumbled, standing up, bracing himself against the edge of the dashboard. “We should go, now.”

“What?” Lance’s frown was back, a deep crease appearing over his forehead. “You look like you’re about to faint.”

“I was just thinking again.” Keith shut his eyes, steadying himself. “Can you get off the seat?”

Lance got up, but he blocked Keith from moving to his emptied spot.

“Keith,” he said. He stroked his shoulders, then planted his palms on Keith’s cheeks. Feeling faint, Keith looked at him, licking his lips.

“I’m not going to drop dead,” Keith mumbled. “I swear I’m fine. I want this to go well just as much as you do. I wouldn’t let us leave if I thought I was going to pass out.”

Lance brushed his thumb over Keith’s lips once he stopped talking, looking at him with all of the fondness and worry in the world. 

“I have a bad feeling about this,” Lance admitted. “Not like we’re going to be in danger, just… like something bad is going to happen, you know? I don’t know how to describe it.”

“That’s you being anxious. You’re not a seer.” Keith removed his hands and, collecting himself, sat back down. He was grateful to be able to sit properly, no matter how comfortable and welcoming Lance’s lap was. His vision spun the longer he had to stand on his legs. “You said it yourself. We can get it over with and move on. It’s exciting,” he deadpanned.

“We’re thinking of two very different outcomes for that.” Lance reached for the shelf again.

Keith unlocked the ship from its autopilot and slipped out of the training grounds, passing through the backyard again to get out of the Garrison. He’d look at the coordinates for the cave so many times that he jammed them into the ship without having to think. The estimated time flickered onto the small screen on the dashboard. Thirty-six minutes. That wasn’t too bad.

“I think we should tell Shiro. Like, after you figure out that this is all false. He’ll know what to do about your memory problems, or if something bad happens, or at least know where to start looking for solutions.”

“I think you mean a cure, not a solution.” Keith tried to focus on piloting. His fingers kept sliding over the knob. It was too small, too different from Red for him to use it nearly as skillfully as her, even if this ship was easier to pilot. 

“Kind of.” Once the ship stabilized, Lance went back to sitting beside him. “I can’t think of anything that would cause... this... while you were in a coma. I’ve been trying to figure it out for days. The scans they did didn’t show any signs of major brain trauma. I double-checked them yesterday to be sure.” Lance was repeating himself. He'd said the same thing every few hours for the past two days, as if he couldn’t wrap his around it and needed a release for his thoughts.

The edges on the ground slowly got flatter and flatter as they left the mountainous region that housed the Garrison. They were flying fast; beneath them, Keith could see tiny towns and roads.

“Plus, your memories are so specific. Like, wildly specific. It’s like you lived an entirely different life while you were asleep.”

Keith let Lance mumble to himself. It didn’t seem to be making him any more scared than he already was, and the more he hyped himself up over finding nothing, the more the impact of seeing Blue would hit him. Hopefully, she would react kindly to his surprise.

“They’re as specific as any other memories are,” Keith said, flying overhead of a bright, shimmering city. The lights from the city’s transmission tower flickered as they passed.

“It’s impossible,” Lance reiterated, going silent. A few minutes later, he mumbled, “I kind of feel like I’m going mad here, having to tell you that over and over.”

“Trust me, I didn’t think travelling between universes was possible either. I wasn’t sure if other universes existed at all.” Keith let go of the knob. It was too uncomfortable to hold. “I don’t just say things for the fun of it like you do. I’m only telling you this stuff because it’s true.”

“I know you don’t.” Lance dragged his fingernails through his hair. “I know that.”

He propped his legs up on the chair, letting his cheek rest against them. He wasn’t used to flying without his armour. It left him both exposed and bizarrely cozy, only marred by the unfriendliness of the ship.

When he got back to his world, he predicted a lot of his time being spent sleeping in Red.

“I know you too. You’re not the only one who ‘knows’ things,” Keith said.

“I know that too!” Lance threw his hands up in the air, animated with his irritation. “You aren’t being out of character for yourself. You’re not like a… a completely different person. But you think you are. That’s what I don’t get.”

Keith didn’t want to get back into thinking about the similarities between him and this world’s Keith. 

“I don’t get it,” Lance muttered, rubbing his forehead.

They flew by the Garrison fueling station. They still had more than enough to get to the cave and back, and admittedly, he was relieved when they were overlooked by the outposts. He didn’t think they would recognize the ship as specifically belonging to a student, but that didn’t stop him from being consoled by the lack of identification.

“We’re almost there,” Keith reassured him.

“Let’s make this quick,” Lance said. 

The ground began to change into sand, until they were in the desert. He bit his lip. 

“I spent a year here. After Shiro was captured, I left the Academy and lived here alone.” He was sure Lance would be pestering him with questions after they found Blue; he might as well get a head start on answering them without being prompted to. 

And, he kind of just wanted to tell him, selfishly. Lance didn’t believe him, fine. He would soon enough, and then he’d be all over Keith’s stories and tragic past. He’d never talked about it to anyone in-depth before.

Lance didn’t say anything back, so Keith kept talking. “I started to feel something… weird. It wasn’t something that I could touch, but it was more like a signal. And it lead me to the cave we’re going to. I didn’t know what was inside of it, because only you could open it up, but it had Blue, which lead us to finding the other Lions. I left my house here behind, obviously. It had a lot of memories. Mostly bad ones, but yeah.”

He landed the ship a quarter of a mile from the cave. Lance was watching him intensely with an unreadable expression. Keith would bet it was disappointment. He thought that Keith was foolish enough to still believe what he was saying, that he was so far into it he’d brought them to some random cave in the middle of nowhere, breaking roughly fifty laws and rules.

Mixed with a little bit of concern and love, which Lance could never shake off of his face. 

Keith reached for Lance’s hand. Lance took it and they got out of the ship together. The mouth of the cave had to be less than five-hundred steps away, visible just over the hill he’d stopped their ship behind. 

“We’re coming, Blue,” he whispered, not loud enough for Lance to hear.

“Here,” Lance said, tugging off his jacket. He held it overhead of them, blocking the dust that was flying in their faces. Keith got the urge to kiss him, but the situation was too pensive for that. 

It was like the beginning of the end for them. Lance would realize that he wasn’t his Keith and then start to help him find a way back home. Their ‘relationship’ wasn’t genuine.

“Thanks.”

They entered the cave and Lance pulled his jacket back on, looking around.

“It’s so dark in here,” Lance grumbled. “I can’t see anything.”

Keith squinted at the walls, but it was too dark to tell if there was anything on the walls. “You have your portable, right?”

“Good idea.” Lance took his portable out from his bag and opened the cover. The light on it automatically turned on. “Shit, there’s more messages…”

As if he was punched, all the air left his lungs when he saw the drawings on the walls. He’d become familiar with them from his trips to the cave; they were the same, talking of a dashing blue lion who saved the day. He touched one of them on the wall, running over the dark colour.

“Pidge says she’s going to kill us. That was forty minutes ago… Oh, there’s one from Hunk from thirty-five minutes ago that says we should listen to Pidge. Twenty minutes ago, from Shiro, asking if we’re done yet and that you need to come see him a-s-a-p, all caps. Ten minutes ago, from Pidge again—”

“Lance,” Keith interrupted him, turning around. “Look.”

“What—”

Lance dropped his portable on the ground.

“Holy shit,” he said. His pupils dilated as his eyes widened, frantically looking around the cave. The drawings covered everywhere, from the walls to the ceiling. Keith let a smirk spread over his face, allowing himself the feeling of satisfaction.

“Watch this.” Keith placed his hand over Lance’s and directed it to one of the drawings, then let go when Lance’s hand hovered only an inch away. “Touch it.”

Lance pressed his palm down and the entire cave lit up, even brighter than the city they had passed while flying. The drawings didn’t only fill with colour, they glowed.

“Holy shit,” Lance said again, moving his hand back as if it the wall had burned him. He turned his hand over, looking at his palm. “Keith…”

“I told you so,” Keith said, touching Lance’s shoulder. “It’s okay.”

“I don’t—” Lance stumbled back, looking as if he was going to faint. “I don’t understand.”

“She’s your lion. You’re the blue paladin. The carvings respond to you because they recognize you as such.” He grabbed Lance’s trembling hand again, getting a sudden burst of conviction now that he was somewhere truly familiar. “Come on, she’s below us.”

The ground didn’t shake like before, opening up for them. Maybe it was the lack of the other paladins with them. He kicked it with his foot instead, until there was a small hole to the level below them. 

“You want me to—to jump? I don’t—this isn’t—”

“It’s safe,” Keith promised. “I’ll go first. But you have to follow me, else I don’t know how I’ll get back.” He laughed. Lance went as white as a ghost.

“So you aren’t—”

“It’s okay,” Keith said again. Lance shook his head, taking a step back. Keith followed him, reaching for Lance’s shirt. “I know you don’t understand, but it’s okay. This is a good thing, remember?”

“I’m not—” Lance struggled to speak. “If this is real, if what you said was the truth, that means—”

“Yeah.” Keith looked down between them. 

“Oh my god.” Lance covered his mouth with his hands. “Who _are_ you?”

The way that Lance spoke shouldn’t have dampened his mood, but it did. “I’m still Keith. Just a different one,” he answered.

Lance’s emotions were betrayed on his face. His eyebrows were pressed together, his mouth open wide, but no words were coming out. The red in his eyes was getting bigger.

“Don’t go into shock,” Keith laughed nervously. “The lions are pretty calming. We just need to get to her. So, I’ll jump first?”

“Okay,” Lance said uncertainly. “Yeah. Okay. Keith.”

Keith let Lance’s shirt slip out from his grasp, and he fell into the hole he’d made. Lance’s foot hit his head and he flinched; he hadn’t expected him to immediately follow. 

They were carried down by the waterfall, hitting the ground hard. Keith groaned, holding his leg. 

“Shit,” he heard Lance say. “Are you—Are you okay?”

Keith opened his eyes. Lance slipped his hands underneath Keith’s head, cradling him.

“Yes,” Keith groaned, sitting up. “I forgot how hard the drop was.”

Lance looked mildly queasy, but he nodded. “O—Okay.” He let go of him. “Where to now?”

“She’s just over—”

Brushing the dirt off of his clothes, Keith looked over his shoulder.

“—There,” he finished, choking.

Because in the space where Blue was supposed to be, where Blue had waited for them for thousands of years, where Blue had called to him—

Was nothing.

The cave was empty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hold onto your horses people, the ride isn't over yet.
> 
> i'll be at fan expo tomorrow (as well as saturday) so there won't be updates on those days, but the next chapter will either be posted on friday or sunday. 
> 
> thank you to everyone who commented! i especially love it when you guys talk to each other in the comments and discuss your theories where i can see them. i'm sure there'll be some interesting ones after this chapter and the next. :P
> 
> talk to me on [tumblr](http://koizumi.tumblr.com) aaand, feel free to also yell at me on [twitter!](http://twitter.com/tsukaleoluvr69) (please do. my curiosity for people's opinions on this fic are insatiable.)
> 
> some random side notes: this chapter is the longest one so far, at 5.6k. also, i got drunk the other day and cried over how many kudos this fic has. i literally cannot believe it. thank you everyone for reading! <3
> 
> and yet another shameless self promotion, i wrote a klance oneshot, [roommates!](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7913926) check it out!


	18. Chapter 18

“Keith! Keith—Keith, stop!”

Keith dug his fingers into the ground, staring at it as if Blue would appear below it, searching for more clues. Lance’s words fell deaf on his ears. He didn’t get it, still, and now, nothing Keith could say would make him get it.

Blue had been here at some point. She had to have been, else there wouldn’t be the carvings on the walls and they wouldn’t have responded to Lance’s touch. But now she was gone, and there wasn’t even a single trace of her existence in sight.

That was impossible. There’d been no hole in the ceiling of the cave. She hadn’t flown out.

He dug faster until the dirt was scraping underneath his nails.

“Keith—fuck, you’re bleeding, stop!”

Lance grabbed his hands and brought them to his chest, turning his palms over to see his nails. They were marred with dirt and a little blood. Definitely not enough for Lance to get worked up about. He ripped his hands out of his grasp.

“She was here,” Keith insisted, looking around. The cave was quiet and empty; there were no animals or giant robotic lions in sight.

“Just,” Lance sighed, placing his hands on Keith’s shoulders and forcing him to face him. He could tell that Lance didn’t understand by the way that he was trying to calm Keith down rather than find out what happened to Blue. The energy in the cave was there, but it was so small that Lance couldn’t feel it. It’d been overwhelming when they were near the carvings, and miniscule now that they were away from them. Lance didn’t seem to notice; Keith assumed he could only tell because of years of prolonged exposure and experience. “Just stop, please.”

Keith blinked at him. “Someone took her. She was stolen. The lions wait for their paladins, there’s no way that she would’ve just… left.”

Lance’s eyebrows raised and he rubbed Keith’s back lightly, a soothing gesture that he’d been repeating for days. It was his default movement to whenever Keith was saying something he deemed a part of his ‘hallucinations’. Keith squirmed away from him and stood up, wincing when his leg popped in dissatisfaction at the motion.

“There’s nothing here, Keith.” Lance followed him, standing up.

Keith jerked, face scrunching. “But there used to be. You saw the carvings. She was here before.”

“I know, I know, just,” Lance rubbed at his eyes, lowering his head. He looked like he’d aged a decade in a few minutes, his skin gone shallow and pale. “I can’t let you hurt yourself. It’s not going to be underground.”

“How do you know that?” Keith snapped instantly. She couldn’t be, he knew that. It didn’t stop him from wanting Lance to shut up.

“Because from what you’ve told me, the lions are like twenty feet tall! That’s what you said, not me.”

“Why are you talking like you don’t believe me?” Keith took a step back, further into the inner area of the alcove. The time when she had been there flashed before his eyes. Lance stumbling back, and all of their eyes widening at the same time. The simultaneous shock and happiness he’d experienced at a year’s worth of hard work coming to fruition.

When he blinked again, the vision disappeared, and he was left with the sight of nothing again.

“You don’t need to snap at me,” Lance said, jogging to stand beside him again. Keith took yet another step away from him. Hurt flashed over Lance’s face. “I didn’t say that, okay? Obviously something is up, I know that. But the lion thing isn’t here.”

“But she exists,” Keith mumbled, going to the spot where she would be sitting. He kicked the ground. There wasn’t even pieces of her left, a knob or a screw or something that he could show Lance.

Lance didn’t answer, which was enough confirmation for Keith to know that he didn’t truly believe that.

“If she hadn’t been here, then what about those carvings? If I wasn’t telling the truth, then how would I know about any of this in the first place?” He clenched his fists, trying to keep his voice controlled, but it was rising louder and louder. Lance stopped breathing for a moment, the only other sound in the room ceasing. “It’s because I’m telling the truth, Lance. I’m not from this world.”

“I don’t know either!” Lance said, raising his voice equally as loud. “You told me there would be a lion here, and there isn’t. I don’t know what to make of that.”

Keith’s lip wobbled. He wasn’t going to cry. The frustration might make him do something worse.

Blue was gone and despite the fact she’d clearly been here, Lance didn’t care. Denial was a powerful drug.

“You’re—” An idiot, Keith finished in his mind. “—This is stupid.”

Keith just wanted to go home again. He wanted to go to his bed and hide under his sheets, falling asleep to the soft hum of their ship as it moved through space. He wanted his Shiro, who would’ve sat with him in silence without question, letting Keith relish in his calming existence.

“Keith,” Lance called. He wrapped his arm around Keith’s waist and hugged him. With his other hand, he grabbed one of Keith’s, brushing away the blood on the tips of his fingers and then wiping it onto his jacket. “I’m not your—stop treating me like I’m your enemy.”

“You believed me,” Keith said. Lance’s hugs were warm and open, as usual, although he held Keith with a tightness that he didn’t usually have, prohibiting him from parting without a struggle.

“I do believe you,” Lance urged. “I believe that you know something. I don’t know how—but we’ll figure it out.”

“But you don’t believe that—”

“There’s no lion here,” Lance repeated, squeezing Keith’s waist. The feeling made Keith sick to his stomach, and at the same time, it gave him the urge to hide away against Lance’s chest and forget everything, which made him feel even sicker, creating a horrible loot.

“Fuck you,” Keith spat, shoving Lance as hard as he could. Lance fell back with a loud noise and Keith walked away. He didn’t want to see him right now.

“What is wrong with you?” Lance screamed, jumping back up. “I’m trying to help you! I came all the way out here because—because I’m trying to help you, and you’re treating me like shit because I’m thinking rationally?”

Keith knew this would happen. Lance was going to freak out, one way or another, and while he hadn’t expected it to be because of the lack of Blue, it was just as irritating as he’d anticipated.

“You’re not thinking rationally! How would I know all of this stuff if I wasn’t telling the truth? The only rational explanation is that I am telling the truth.”

“Maybe you found this all out before you went into your coma, and it’s coming back to you in these hallucinations.” Lance grabbed the back of his shirt. “That’s a little more rational than thinking you’re from another universe! And I don’t… I don’t want to think that you’d keep anything from me, but you’ve already shown me you have. It’s not that out of the blue.”

“Why do you keep touching me?” Keith tore Lance’s hands off. “Can you not tell by the way I keep pushing you away that I don’t want to cuddle or whatever right now?”

“I’m trying to have a real conversation here, not cuddle.” Lance shook his hand, frowning. “And you’re avoiding it. Again. As usual.”

“Smart,” Keith scoffed. “Insulting me to try and get me to play along with you. I’m not going to. You’re going to take anything I say as me hallucinating, anyways.”

“You are such a jerk,” Lance mumbled. “I’m going to pray that this is because you’re hallucinating and not because you’ve actually been a massive asshole this whole time.”

Keith rubbed his face. They had to get out of here before they tore each other apart. Blue wasn’t here, which meant she was somewhere else. Were there other paladins? There had to be, because Allura had once said that if one of them died, the world wouldn’t end. But were there other paladins in this universe, ones that had taken her?

Or was she taken by the Galra? The thought made him shiver. Earth hadn’t been destroyed yet, though, so that gave him an inkling of hope that it wasn’t true.

Lance sniffled and wiped his face, walking back to the waterfall that they’d come down. “How do we get out?”

At least they were on the same page for once. “Before, we just flew out. I figured we’d do that again.”

“Well, we can’t, Keith. So what do we do?”

“Now you’re the one being rude,” Keith crossed his arms.

“How was I—Okay, you know what? You just stay there and I’ll figure it out.”

Keith hopped onto one of the rocks that were slanted upwards, to the hole he’d made. It was a long way up to the top. “You’re being condescending.”

“I’m the one being condescending,” Lance echoed in disbelief. “Fuck, I should’ve brought my portable down.”

Everything was coming crashing down. Lance didn’t believe him, their friends were figuring things out on their own. This couldn’t have possibly gone worse.

“I’m going to climb up,” Keith said. “I’ll find something to use as a rope and drop it down for you.”

“What?” Lance said. “No. I’ll do it.”

Scowling, Keith looked down at him. “You don’t trust me to do it?”

“Why are you taking everything I say as a personal offense? It’s because you’re injured, you idiot.” Lance jumped up beside him. “I don’t want you to fall and hurt yourself again.” He grabbed the next rock and lifted himself onto it.

Keith wiggled his ankle. “I’ve done a lot worse than climb up some rocks.”

Lance ignored him, moving onto the next rock, and the next. They got increasingly smaller and smaller the closer he got to the ceiling of the alcove. Reluctantly, Keith moved back into the water, underneath where Lance was holding onto the stone, just in case he fell.

“I never thought you were lying,” Lance said. “I’ve told you that again and again. I know you really do believe what you’re saying.”

He sounded so sad that it made Keith’s heart clench. Lance really was trying, albeit in a stupid, foolish way that was only ruining things for them both.

Lance glanced at him from the topmost rock. Keith looked back. Lance gave him a harrowing smile.

“Your memories are… warped. You remember me, our friends, the Garrison… but not in the same way. Now we can start to fix that, right? And then we’ll figure out how you know about these carvings, and whether this lion really existed or not.”

“Lance,” Keith ran his hands over his cheeks. “Stop.”

“I’ll find something to help you up,” Lance said, climbing through the hole that Keith had made earlier. He elevated his upper body first, and Keith’s brain had the audacity to be impressed by the strength on his arms.

Lance disappeared onto the upper level of the cave.

His opinion was flip-flopping, as usual, but from what Keith could gather, he believed half of Keith’s story. He’d seen the carvings with his own two eyes. No matter how much he tried to renounce Keith’s words, he wouldn’t be able to forget that.

He had to figure out how to convince Lance that the second half was true as well. He had no idea how he would do that.

Lance’s theory was more logical, and Keith would’ve believed it if he was an outsider. Any thoughts of telling the others about what had happened was thrown out the window. They’d side with Lance, no doubt.

That was, unless they already knew. Keith had no idea how they would’ve figured it out. He didn’t want to know why they were looking for him. He had too much to deal with already.

“I went back to my ship and got rope,” he heard Lance’s voice call. “Let me just tie it to something up here…”

After a minute, Lance threw the rope down into the cave and Keith climbed up on it, squeezing himself through the hole again. Lance took his hand and hoisted himself onto his feet.

The carvings were still glowing. It’d gotten darker outside, making their shine even brighter. He brushed past Lance and placed his hand over one of them. It didn’t respond to him, continuing to flicker with light.

If there was one reason he wished she was there, if not as proof for Lance, it was so that he could lie in her interior and relax.

“We need to get back,” Lance said, picking his portable off of the ground. “I have like, fifty missed messages. You can read them while we fly.”

He moved his fingertips along the marks of the carvings.

“I hope Pidge knows more about the drug they gave you. That has to be it.”

Lance went to the exit of the cave and looked over his shoulder at Keith. Keith saw him waiting, yet his feet didn’t move.

He’d been working to get Lance to believe him under the assumption that Lance would help him go home. But what if he didn’t? What if Lance never believed him completely, never helped him, and he never went home?

“Keith?”

“I’m coming,” he mumbled, walking to where Lance was.

There was no use in staying when she wasn’t there. He forced himself to leave the cave with Lance. Each step felt like he was walking on ice, slippery and uncertain.

Lance’s shoulders were tight with agitation. He was holding back his anger, pretending to be calm and okay. Keith would’ve been grateful for it if he didn’t know that it would eventually overflow. Neither of them could hold their emotions in forever.

The anger Keith had felt was dissipating, slowly leaving him with disappointment rather than rage.

They boarded the ship. Lance shut the door behind him and immediately went to the pilot’s seat, most likely before Keith could take it. He resigned himself to standing where Lance had been when he had piloted.

“You were spending a lot of time in the labs before the crash,” Lance said as they took off. “Maybe you discovered it… these drawings... there.”

“How would I have known it was important?”

“Well, we don’t know for sure if it’s important. People used to draw on cave walls all the time. It could be nothing. Your brain thinks it’s important because of the hallucinations. Blowing things out of proportion and all.”

Keith took a seat once the ship was stable. He felt like he was going to fall over if he had to stand and listen to Lance talk at the same time.

“You’re making excuses,” Keith said, resting his cheek on the cold wall of the ship. “Walls don’t glow naturally.”

Lance’s lips thinned and he went back to ignoring him.

As Lance flew them back, Keith tried to think of a new plan.

One option was to tell Lance about the scratch marks. He’d been turning over the idea in his head for days. The main thing that stopped him was that it would’ve made Lance shift his focus onto why Keith had hid it from him before. Now that Lance had said Keith was hiding things out loud, out of his violation, Keith could attempt to bring it up, and they could figure out how, and why, the other Keith had made them. It was the only ‘clue’ that he had that he hadn’t confronted Lance about.

His other option was to do the same thing he’d been trying to do so far: not telling Lance anything that could make him upset. He hadn’t been entirely successful with it. Keith had caved to too much pressure and told Lance too much information that he’d been using against him, as ‘proof’ of his hallucinations.

“I hope the others didn’t notice we left the Garrison,” Lance grumbled. “They better not have told any staff.”

“They wouldn’t have. They said they wanted to talk to me specifically. If they tell the staff that we left, we’ll be kept apart and I’ll be taken back to the medbay,” Keith said.

He looked over at Lance’s portable, poking out from his unzipped bag. Keith’s fingers itched to reach over and grab it. However, he also didn’t want to see what kind of obscenities they were throwing at them. He resisted from taking it out.

Lance sped up the ship. It rattled, breaking past its usual speed. Lance leaned over the dashboard, watching the night sky.

They didn’t talk for the rest of the flight.

Lance was prickling with exasperation. Keith could feel it radiating off of him, by the way his eyes darted over the glass and his hands shifted restlessly on the controls of the ship. Being in a locked ship with him wasn’t helping Keith’s mood.

Keith could shift his focus to the actual crash. He wasn’t going to wait for Lance to get over his issues of disbelief before continuing his search. The switch had to have occurred then. It wasn’t a physical switch, but even for their consciousnesses to be altered, there would have had to be a spike in energy.

If he was lucky. So far, he hadn’t been.

Nothing was as concrete as visiting Blue had been, though, and that had turned to be a dead end as well. It was the one thing he was certain about, from his world, having seen it with his own two eyes. Everything else was merely speculation, based off of other people’s research, or what Lance said, which wasn’t exactly reliable.

He stood back up as Lance lowered the ship back into the Garrison.

“No one’s waiting for us here,” Lance said, letting of the controls as they landed on the ground. “So that’s good?”

“As I said, they wouldn’t have told anyone,” Keith muttered, leaving the ship. He took a deep breath of the stale air in the Garrison. It was only marginally better than being inside Lance’s ship.

“Let’s get back to the room before anyone spots us.”

As if Keith had suggested they’d loiter around. He covered his hands with his pockets and they walked back to the room together.

While he hadn’t been surprised to see no Garrison staff waiting, he was shocked that their friends weren’t standing outside their door. He looked down the hallway, but all of the doors were locked and shut, standard for the Garrison after curfew.

“Doesn’t look like they came by,” Lance said, opening their door and pushing away the chair they’d put in front of it. He threw his bag onto the bed.

Keith picked up his own portable off of the desk near the window.

_Sent August 2, 21XX from Katie: You know that medical bracelet you’re wearing is tracked, right?_

He groaned, fingering the bracelet that was around his wrist. He didn’t think anyone was actually monitoring it. It’d been senseless to keep it on, but he hadn’t known how he’d get it back on if he broke it off. That explained why they hadn’t bothered to check their room.

“What’s wrong?” Lance pulled out two water bottles from their fridge.

“Are you really asking me that?” Keith said, peeved.

“It was a harmless question,” Lance frowned, putting one bottle down on the bedside table and holding the other out to Keith.

Keith shut his portable and took the water. Hopefully, they wouldn’t skip curfew to come visit them. Not that the curfew would stop them, if any of them were determined.

“Everything is wrong, Lance. Thanks for asking.”

“Okay, seriously? We’re back to this again?”

Keith recognized the opening of the gates in Lance’s mind, filling him with the emotion he’d been trying to hold back. Keith went to the opposite end of the bed, readying himself for whatever contradictions Lance was going to throw at him.

“Were you intending to ignore how when you touched the walls, they glowed?”

“I don’t have an explanation for that,” Lance said. “Pidge will know.”

“Pidge doesn’t know everything. Your answer to my facts can’t always be ‘Pidge will figure it out’.”

“They’re not. It’s obviously some kind of chemistry thing. If anyone will know, it’s Pidge.”

So now Lance thought that what had just happened was some kind of chemistry thing. Lance was lucky that his legs were so tired, else he would’ve marched right up to him so he could look him in the eyes properly. Lance was far more likely to concede in a staring match.

“You can’t tell her about this,” Keith said.

“We have to tell someone!” Lance threw his arms up in the air, then dragged them through his hair.

“Why?” Keith countered. “All they’re going to ask why you didn’t tell them sooner.”

“Why? I don’t care if they blame me, you need help.” Lance tugged angrily at his hair, voice getting louder and louder. Keith thanked the Academy for soundproof walls. “There was nothing there, Keith. You saw it with your own two eyes. It was empty. And yeah, the walls glowed when I touched them, but that’s not why you wanted to take me there! Your ‘robotic lion’ that you’ve been talking about, so far, doesn’t exist. This is real life.” He was out of breath, every word punctuated with indignation.

Keith held onto his wrist to keep himself from doing anything rash. This was Lance, still. Lance, who was his friend, who cared for him more than he could understand.

It was a strange reversal of their relationship back home. Him, trying to stay calm as Lance went on rashly.

“I don’t know why she wasn’t there, okay?” he started. A storm was beginning to rage outside, a loud thunder from outside, the rain battering against their window, drowning out the noise of Lance’s groan. “I know this is real life.”

Lance laughed lifelessly, his shoulders shaking as he tipped his head upwards, blinking back tears. “I wish you could hear how absurd you sound right now. After everything that just happened, you won’t admit you’re wrong. I was reading up on it, how people with hallucinations won’t admit it even if they know they’re wrong. This idea… this thing in your head… it’s not real. We need to go to Pidge, or Shiro, or someone. Someone needs to know before you end up doing something even more dangerous.” His face twisted, red bursting on his cheeks.

“You’re using buzzwords. ‘Everything that happened’?” Keith slipped off the bed. “What does that even mean?”

“You were warming up to me again. You were—you were becoming yourself again, when we weren’t focused on this. It’s like the hallucinations went away. And then we went to the cave, and you’re back to being difficult, and—”

“That was a mistake,” Keith took a deep breath. “I shouldn’t have—” Lance cut him off, words biting.

“A mistake,” Lance said, staring at the ceiling. “You keep using that word about us. A mistake. If these hallucinations, these ideas… if they’re really based off of what you were thinking before the coma…”

“It’s a mistake because I’m not the other person in this relationship,” Keith explained. The longer they spoke, the more his thoughts began to slip away from him. Lance wordlessly swallowed back his tears.

Lance wiped his face on his sleeve. “Is it that you just—you don’t want to be together. Maybe it all comes down to that. I know what you’re saying isn’t real. People can’t travel through universes. So you have to be lying, or hallucinating, or you just flat-out don’t want to be together. Or all of them. Which one is it?”

Keith stared at him, at the way Lance’s long limbs shook, at how tired he looked. He didn’t have an answer that wouldn’t incriminate himself. He’d already done enough of that.

“Keith!” Lance snapped, and finally looked at him, managing to keep their gazes level. “I know it’s not real. So what is it?”

“You think I’m hallucinating.” Keith squeezed his own arm anxiously, a pathetic attempt at grounding himself. “You think it’s not real, and that I’m hallucinating. But it is. I’ll—We can find another way to prove it.”

It took a few seconds for Lance to process his words. His arms dropped to his sides; the hurt in his eyes was palpable, so deep that Keith had to wretch his own away, unable to look any longer. “You need help, Keith. We need help.”

“What I need is to go back home. And then you can bring your Keith back.”

Lance made a noise of frustration and sadness, a sound that made Keith’s heart clench with the realization that he’d failed. “You are my Keith. You’re the only Keith there is. But—But you’re right. You aren’t right now. Man, it was so nice to have you back for the past two days. It felt like heaven. I guess that’s gone now.”

“I need your help,” Keith said, just as Lance took a step back, towards the door. He reached for his key on the table and Keith followed forward without thinking. “You asked me who I was. Let me explain again. I’ll tell you everything I know, every single detail, just—”

“I’m getting Shiro.” Lance turned his head, looking at the door.

Keith bristled. “Lance, stop. You don’t know what you’re doing—”

“Hah!” Lance snatched the keys off the table. “Like you do? Mr. Let’s take an extremely dangerous, possibly life-threatening mission to a cave that has absolutely nothing inside it, less than one month after a previous dangerous, life-threatening mission?”

“How is Shiro going to help either way? He won’t understand! He’s too—” Reasonable. Sensible. And Keith’s situation defied both reasonability and sensibility. Shiro looked out for Keith’s well-being above all else, and if both Shiro and Lance were watching over him, he’d never get anyone done. Blue was supposed to have sated Lance’s curiosity. “He’s just going to tell you to bring me to the medbay!” He finished, ending with significantly less of a punch than he’d wanted to.

“Then maybe you should get help,” Lance countered, already pulling on his jacket. “Not at the medbay, but Shiro knows a lot of people. People who could work with Hunk and Pidge to figure out how this happened. This isn’t normal. Taking me so far—god, I’m a fucking idiot for going with you.”

“I know it’s not normal. That’s what I’ve been saying this entire time!”

Slipping on his shoes, Lance sighed, back facing Keith. “I’m so tired of this, Keith. Going back and forth like this.” His keys jingled as he turned them over his palm. “I know you don’t get what’s going on right now. But you’re right. You aren’t my boyfriend. And I’m going to get him back.”

“Lance—”

Keith didn’t know what to do another than to lunge at him. Desperately, he wanted to throttle him, to knock sense into him, to scream that they had the same goal, that Lance was going to fuck everything up. He barely grasped the thin material of Lance’s jacket before Lance jerked, spinning, pupils dilated and fixed on Keith.

“No,” Lance said firmly. Keith hadn’t heard him say anything with such certainty in weeks. “I’ll be back soon.”

He moved back and the fabric of his jacket slipped out from between Keith’s fingers. The look in Lance’s eyes reminded of the way a hunter looked at a wounded animal, bleeding out on the floor. A sick mixture of sympathy and disgust.

When the door shut, he knelt on the ground, suddenly losing the ability to stand. Dizziness clouded his vision, body heaving every laboured breath.

Calm. He had to stay calm. There was no Shiro, no teammates to help him. He had to stay calm—

 _Fuck_. Fuck.

Lance was going to ruin everything. His life, Keith’s life, all of their lives. Through the cloudiness of his mind, muddled with panic, he tried to think of another plan. A way to get out. But the windows were tightly shut, all of the hallways a dead end, and he had no way of getting to a ship on his own.

He missed Red. Keith loved her more than ever. You don’t know the value of what you have before you lose it, Hunk had told him once, laughing. He swallowed the bile that came with the thought he may never see her again, that he might never go home.

Covering his face with his hands, he bit down so hard on his lip to stop himself from crying out that he drew blood, the metallic taste flooding his mouth, reminding him of his failure.

Keith wondered what would have happened if he had died. As a hero, in his own world, where his friends would have remembered and honoured him. If he’d known how much effort it’d take to live, the constant weight that settled on his shoulders and only grew larger, he would’ve gladly taken death.

Weakly, he wiped as many tears as he could away, wetting his sleeves, and lowered his hands.

He knew one thing, at least: he couldn’t rely on Lance anymore, or Shiro, or anyone. He was alone.

As he wallowed in self-pity, something caught his eye, just below the edge of his sleeve.

Time froze. It was like when he was floating through space after being ejected from Red. The world around him became a buzz in the back of his head.

He peeled his sleeve back and screamed.

At the base of his wrist was a patch of purple fur.

He ran to the bathroom, barely making it in time to throw up into the toilet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the lovely art for this chapter is by [@mangotcha](https://twitter.com/mangotcha)!!! thank you so much to them for drawing it!
> 
> the chapter count for this fic will probably go up more (yes, i know i say this every chapter) as i start school next week and will probably begin doing shorter updates again.
> 
> let me know what you think as usual in the comments! i'm absolutely floored by the amount on the last chapter... it blows my mind, thank you so much to everyone who's reading.
> 
> because this fic reached 2k kudos (what the fuck... like... holy shit???) i will be writing a small spin-off/oneshot that takes place in this au! it should be up monday or tuesday. i won't say what it's about, though.
> 
> yell at me on [tumblr](http://koizumi.tumblr.com) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/tsukaleoluvr69)!
> 
> ps. thank you to everyone who told me to have fun at fan expo, i bought [$200 worth of voltron stuff.](http://koizumi.tumblr.com/post/149817497009/this-is-what-200-in-voltron-merch-looks-like)


	19. Chapter 19

Keith didn’t have a bad childhood, all things considered.

For an orphan, he was exceedingly well taken care of. He had acquaintances who kept him company, albeit not a lot of them, and he never went without a roof on his head and food in his belly. No matter how risky it was, he always managed to take care of himself. When Shiro came along, the worries of survival and loneliness went to the back of his mind.

It resurfaced when Shiro disappeared and then never left after that. He was already well into his teenage years when that happened.

He’d never known his parents and he had no desire to know them. The people who thought that blood ran thicker than water were foolish; Keith had made his own family along the way as a teenager, first with Shiro and then with the other paladins. If anyone thought Keith longed for true parental touch, they were grossly mistaken and didn’t know Keith at all.

It wasn’t the feeling of missing his parents that made him think of them, though.

The most likely explanation for the small patch of fur taunting him on his wrist, was that Galra blood ran in his veins. He couldn’t think of any other reason that he would suddenly sprout fur. That lead to the question of whether it was due to the parents he had never known, or if it was from some post-birth injection or experimentation.

He pressed his fingers into the fur. It was soft, just like any animal’s, and touching it didn’t make it spread throughout his hand.

He wanted to believe that it was the second option: that he wasn’t a part-Galra mutant freak, born to a race whose goals included taking over the universe and forcing people to murder each other for entertainment.

Angrily, he dug his nails into a part of the fur and pulled it out. It fell off easily, leaving the skin underneath bright red, yet decidedly human, mimicking the harsh texture of a scrape on a knee or elbow. Keith sucked in the crisp air of the bathroom, his lungs still tight.

Lance would be back soon with Shiro, or perhaps one of their other friends. He already knew that he’d lose that argument. If he was one of them, he wouldn’t have believed himself. Looking at the situation objectively, him spouting nonsense about being from another universe was odd on its own. Doing it while doped up on a batch of strange drugs was a thousand times more doubtful.

It’d been over ten minutes already, and the dormitories of the Academy weren’t large in the slightest. Keith was ready to lean his weight against the door to prevent them from coming in at a moment’s notice.

He grabbed a fistful of toilet paper and wiped up the fur that fell onto the tile. There were two razors in their shower, colour-coded like everything else, red and blue. Keith’s was fresh. Lance had replaced it last week when he had urged Keith to shower for the first time since he’d woken up from his coma. It would remove any traces of the fur, and he could wrap it up in more toilet paper and shove it into the sewer system. No one would ever know. He suspected that’s what the other Keith had been doing.

That would be counterproductive to his real cause, though, which was to find out what had happened in order to cause the switch, and then reverse it. The crash had to have something to do with this. It was far too big of a coincidence to let go. If he erased the evidence, he wouldn’t have any proof.

The word rang in his ears: proof. That’s what he had been thinking of and looking for all week. Blue was it, but she came up short.

The others already assumed that Keith had purposely crashed the ship. While he wasn’t sure if it had been on purpose or by accident, he knew that it had to be caused by him. And showing the others this, something foreign and strange that he could explain, would give reasonable doubt to their theory that he was hallucinating. No matter how stubborn Lance was, even he couldn’t deny that strange things could happen when someone found out they were an alien.

He stood up, avoiding the mirror, movements were sluggish and stilted. It took a tremendous measure of willpower to open the cupboard below the sink. His thoughts were slow yet concise, as if they were being filtered before being sent to his brain for comprehension. When he looked down, he realized his hand was shaking without his knowledge. He held onto his wrist with his other hand and went to work.

He wrapped a thick layer of gauze around his wrist, covering up the bleeding scratches he’d left on his wrist. Turning his hand around, he stared at his nails, flexing his fingers with uncertainty. They didn’t look any sharper than before, but he’d been strong enough to rip out the fur that was set into his skin.

At least he had an explanation for the marks in the closet. Regardless of why they were made, he now knew how, and that was more than he’d had before.

“Bright side,” he muttered to himself, slipping the gauze into place and securing it, cautious of the blood that was brimming on the edges of the wound. “There’s a bright side to everything.”

Except there was no bright side to finding out you were related to the most despicable group of beings in the world, whether naturally or not.

The people in this universe wouldn’t understand the severity of it. The Galra were still around, exhibited by Keith’s wrist, however they weren’t taking over Earth. The Galra would be simply an alien to them, the same as any other foreign creature.

If he went home—when he went home, he forced himself to correct—

He couldn’t imagine having to stand in front of Shiro, who had gone through hell and back at the Galra’s hands, and tell him that he was a part of them.

Not to mention Allura and Coran, whose entire species had been decimated in cold blood. The rest of his friends, who dedicated and risked their lives to fight them.

It was effortless to think of them trying to be okay, trying to act like everything was fine, and yet their relationship as a team breaking underneath the weight of the revelation that everything was not okay and everything was not fine. His head throbbed thinking of Shiro, who had taken him in and was one of the sole reasons he had never gone hungry or cold. Just by existing, he was letting him down.

He choked and his hand shook, splattering the excess blood that clung to the frayed edges of the gauze onto the floor. Avoiding the sight of the blood, he looked at himself in the mirror. For a sick second, his stomach filled with dread at the possibility of seeing some horrible, yellow-eyed version of himself, but he looked normal.

He rubbed his cheek with his good hand. There was no traces of fur there, or on his face at all. His eyes were wide and black like always. He looked like himself. Like Keith.

The other Keith, that was. He almost forgot as he surveyed himself in the mirror that this wasn’t him. Shuddering, he covered his face with his palms, shutting his eyes.

It was probable that this world’s Keith’s body was different from his own. It would be impossible to tell for anyone but himself and maybe the most observant of his friends, however, the differences were there. Alone, and with the rise of panic threatening him, it was much easier to tell.

He’d noticed it before, when Lance touched him. In his world, the first few times, he’d flushed when any of them gave him a hug. The touches were unfamiliar to him after a year of living in the desert. After a few weeks of being a team, he’d gotten used to it.

Here, every time Lance so much as grazed him, he felt like he was on fire. It had to be an instinctual reaction. Lance often played with his hair, threading his fingers over Keith’s scalp and brushing out the tangles that formed when he laid in bed for too long. He’d never liked having his hair touched in his own world, not even by himself.

The differences were also on the pads of his fingers, the circles under his eyes, and the thick ends of his hair, though. This was a different body.

He didn’t have much time to dwell on the thought before he heard the front door creaking open and the crisp noise of the electronic buzzer letting someone in.

“And he keeps saying that—Keith?”

Lance’s voice was ragged, but clear. He always dropped his bag near the doorway and then made his way to the fridge for a bottle of water to hand to Keith, and then they would lie in bed together. Or, that’s how it had been the past couple of days.

“The door was locked when you opened it?” Shiro asked.

Keith hurried to stand in front of the bathroom door. They’d figure out where he was hiding soon enough. It’s not like there were any windows that could be opened for him to escape out of. He needed to think of what he was going to say.

“Yeah. He doesn’t have a key to lock it,” Lance answered. “Keith?”

If Lance had told Shiro, it would only be a matter of time before Pidge and Hunk came as well. She had said she was able to track his medical bracelet; he was surprised they hadn’t burst through the doors in the time Lance had been looking for Shiro.

“Not in the closet or under the bed,” Shiro commented. There was a pause, and then Lance laughed tensely.

“Under the bed?”

He thought Shiro might have shrugged mutely to that.

“Is he in the bathroom?” Lance walked over to the door. Keith could feel him pressing his cheek to the other side. “I think he’s in the bathroom.”

“He can most likely hear you,” Shiro sighed.

Keith bit his lip, glancing at his wrist. The bleeding had mostly stopped when the gauze settled onto his wrist, but there was still a tuft of hair that could be seen under the translucent fabric.

“Wait!” Lance yelled. “I can see his feet underneath the door.”

“Keith,” Shiro started, knocking on the bathroom door, directly over the place Keith was resting his head. “I need to show you something, but you’ll need to come out to see it.”

Shiro had been working on his case. If he found anything, it had to relate to the crash. He needed to know what Shiro thought before Lance convinced him of things that weren’t true. If he stayed inside the bathroom, his silence would offer to confirm Lance’s suspicions.

He opened the door.

“Why were you—” Shiro instantly said. He was cut off by Lance shoving him away to get to Keith.

“Did you get hurt?” Lance questioned, inspecting his wrist. All of the irritation on his face melted into distress. “What the fuck, you’re bleeding! I was only gone for half an hour.”

He held onto his hand tightly; Lance’s thumb ran over his palm, his forehead creased with concern. Some of the blood must have dripped onto the other side of his wrist, opposite to the fur.

Keith wriggled his hand out of Lance’s grasp and hid it behind his back, rubbing over the matted fur with his other hand.

“What?” He turned to Shiro. Lance frowned, looking between them, and he held onto Keith’s arm instead.

Shiro’s eyes narrowed. “Keith, if you’re hurt—”

Keith groaned, nose crinkling. “Tell me what you found first.”

“We’re here to discuss your health. I feel like another injury is a pretty big deal,” Lance said, shaking Keith’s shoulder. Keith almost fell over, falling back onto his heels to lean against the wall.

“Lance, it’s okay,” Shiro said carefully. “I’ll tell you,” he nodded to Keith, “and then you have to allow us to ask you questions as well. We’re all trying to reach the same goal here. Don’t forget that.”

“And what is that?”

Lance’s hand dropped from Keith’s shoulder. He played with his own wrist, scrutinizing Keith’s every movement.

“To help you,” Lance said. His voice was tinged with that same, constant confusion.

Despite knowing it wouldn’t help, he looked at Lance. Lance’s eyes widened and he held his gaze on Keith’s. His hair was slicked to his cheeks, drenched with sweat from their fight. It’d only been an hour ago, still fresh, yet it’d felt like Keith had been in the bathroom by himself for days.

“What is it?” he asked Shiro, not turning away from Lance.

Shiro shoved his hand into his pocket and pulled out a black USB drive. “I took this from our lab.”

Keith’s hunch had been right, then. He took it from Shiro without asking, flipping it over. It wasn’t labelled. If Shiro was willing to bargain his health over it, it must be important. “And?”

Shiro grabbed it out of his hands, huffing slightly. “It’s an audio recording. You can’t hear it until you show us your wound.”

“Wait, what?” Lance looked at Shiro, scrambling to keep up. “You guys recovered audio from the crash?”

“Only a few hours ago. I tried to find you,” he stared back at Lance, “both of you, but you were outside the Garrison. Which you aren’t getting out of either. You’re going to tell me everything.”

Lance pinched his nose, straining under Shiro’s disappointment in him.

Keith bit his lip. “That’s all you came to say?”

“It’s important,” Shiro nodded at him and put the USB back in his pocket. He gestured for Keith to come closer. Keith looked between Lance, who was torn between being flabbergasted and wrecked with worry, and Shiro. At any rate, Lance’s anger dissipated quickly. Keith wasn’t feeling much of it either anymore.

He had much bigger things to be concerned over.

“Are there cameras in here?”

“No,” Shiro said. He was determined, eyebrows slanted downwards, a similar look to the one he wore when they flew their lions. Shiro’s appearance had been the one of the first things to tip Keith off that this universe wasn’t his, though. It was more than the lack of metal arm, scar, and white hair; more than just the massive physical differences.

He didn’t want to think about how his Shiro would react to this. The thought kept invading his mind, unwelcomed.

“You’re not going to tell anyone about this,” Keith said. “Both of you.”

“If it’s treatable between us, yeah.” Lance crossed his arms.

Keith stopped himself from scoffing. “What did Lance tell you?” he said to Shiro.

“I’m right here,” Lance tried to say. Shiro placed his hand on Lance’s shoulder and they lowered instantly.

“I know you are,” Keith grumbled. “I’m asking Shiro for his perspective.”

“I don’t appreciate you lying to me,” Shiro sighed, messing up his own hair, one hand on his hip in thought. “I don’t know if what Lance says is true and that you’re hallucinating… things. That’s scary on its own, but it’s scarier to me that you hid it to my face.”

Keith smothered the guilt that rose into his throat, momentarily preventing him from speaking. He thought he’d gotten over that.

“Would I ever hide anything from you? Or Lance?”

Lance opened his mouth. He wasn’t fast enough to gather his words; Shiro spoke up. “No. I don’t think so.”

Keith reached back and slipped his fingers underneath the gauze, loosening it around his wrist, just enough so that he could touch the soft fur slick to his skin. He inhaled, exhaled, and inhaled once more, taking time with each breath to think of what he wanted to say.

Talking with Lance about this was like hurling dirt back and forth. It didn’t stain, but it hurt. With Shiro, he had to take a step back and observe. Keith didn’t do that often.

“I wouldn’t do it where I’m from, either. The only reason why I hid anything from you, either of you, is because I regarded you as strangers.”

Shiro and Lance shared a pained look.

“I can show you,” Keith continued, not wanting either of them to speak up before he was finished. “I don’t have a real theory, but I can tell you what I’ve found out. And then you’ll show me what’s on the USB and we can work together.”

Lance uncrossed his arms. “I didn’t finish telling you everything, Shiro.”

“If this is about Blue—”

“Those mechanical lions I was talking about—that’s where we went earlier, to look for one, and it wasn’t there, as I expected—”

“Lance, shut up,” Keith grit his teeth. Lance whirled towards him, eyes huge and glossy. Keith wasn’t sure if he could handle Lance crying again. Between that, his life in someone else’s body somehow falling apart even more, and Shiro standing there judging them, he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to hold back his own.

“I know from your perspective, he—we seem pushy.” Shiro held out his hand. “Maybe you don’t understand that we care.”

“No, I know.” He knew very well. Flashes of floating in space, of their team bonding exercises, of cheering in joy at simply staying alive after a battle came to his head. They weren’t the perfect team, Keith knew that. Else he wouldn’t have had to blow himself up. He wouldn’t trade them for the world either way.

Lance was a stubborn fool, and yet Keith couldn’t find it in himself to fault him for that anymore. While the annoyance was there in full force, he was beginning to feel defeated under the force of his bad luck and stupid mistakes.

And, speaking of bad luck—

“Finally,” Pidge yelled. “Shiro? Open the door!”

“Seriously?” Lance moaned, throwing his head back. “Are we hosting a party here?”

Shiro shot him a glare. “You should be glad that your friends care so much about you two to risk their Academic lives to come here.” He went over to open the door.

When Shiro’s back faced them, Lance took his good hand.

“You’re so stubborn,” Lance mumbled, glance flickering rapidly over Keith and the hand he was hiding still behind his back. “I swear to god, this entire time I’ve been trying to help. I’m sorry for yelling, okay? It’s just—hard. Really hard.”

“I was thinking the same about you,” Keith snorted dryly. Lance’s palms were clammy and he covered Keith’s hand with both of his, wrapping around him like a hot blanket. “I’m trying too.”

Lance pursed his lips. “The others will help us fix it.”

They were talking about two very different things. Keith let Lance hold his hand. A deep part of his mind enjoyed the warmth and comfort. He was used to the whiplash of Lance’s emotions, and he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to lean on Lance after this.

He hadn’t considered that possibility before, when he’d expected Blue to be there too. Freaking out, yes, Keith had prepared himself for that. The idea of losing Lance’s affection was uncomfortable. It was one of the only constants he had in this world.

“Pidge, stop—”

“No, I will not stop,” Pidge countered. Hunk closed the door behind her, locking it. She was holding something in her small hands, shaking it wildly in front of Shiro’s face. When she spotted him, she stomped over and tugged Lance’s hands away.

“Hey!” Lance said, more shocked than mad.

“Until we figure out what’s going on, you shouldn’t touch him. No one should.”

Keith attempted to control his expression. He knew she saw the touch of realization that came over his face, however brief.

“Pidge,” Shiro said again. Hunk came up behind her and put his arm on her shoulder.

“Don’t ‘Pidge’ me,” Pidge complained. She held up the thing in her hand again.

He recognized it just by the noise. It was the drug he’d been taking for his recovery, albeit he hadn’t taken it today. The little white-and-yellow pills throttled inside the bottle, the label old and worn, peeling off the sides.

“Where did you two get that?” Shiro asked.

“What is that?” was Lance’s more astute question.

“It doesn’t matter how we got it,” Pidge said. She screwed open the cap and poured a handful of them onto her palm. “What matters is that it’s a fucking placebo.”

Hunk took one of the capsules and broke it between his thumbs. There was nothing inside.

Everyone’s heads whipped towards him. Keith re-lived the sensation of floating, alone, again; and of crying on the same floor he was standing on now, just an hour ago.

“Explain,” Shiro demanded. Lance put his hand on his chest, trying to breathe in. It came out too sharply to be comfortable.

“That’s what I was getting to before, before we were interrupted,” Keith said.

Not that he had known that he was being drugged up on absolutely nothing. It made sense with the other information he’d found out, but he’d had no reason to suspect it in the past two weeks.

“How long have you been here?” Hunk asked to Shiro. Shiro shut his eyes for a second, then looked down at his watch.

“Ten minutes or so,” Shiro replied. It had felt like a lot less time than that, like a second.

“I’ll explain everything I know,” Keith repeated, for Pidge and Hunk’s sake. “If you promise to help me.”

Pidge imitated Lance’s typical pose of ‘crossing the arms and looking unimpressed’. “That depends.”

“Of course we will,” Hunk said hastily after. “You’re going to scare him,” he mumbled to Pidge.

“He should be scared.”

Lance’s back shot straight up at the threat.

“We’re your friends, and then some,” Shiro said, canting his head in Lance’s direction. “You can trust us.”

It was the only time he’d felt safe to reveal anything about himself in this universe compared to his own. The gravity of his lineage would be lost on them.

That also meant it was another thing he was alone in: recognizing how fucked up the situation was, again.

He held out his arm, then rotated it so that the side with the fur was facing the others. He looked away. He didn’t want to see it.

“What the fuck,” Lance breathed out.

“I knew it!” Pidge said at the same time, considerably louder.

“You knew it?” Shiro and Hunk asked.

Pidge snatched his wrist without asking, leaning forward and scrutinizing it. She peeled off the gauze and gasped. He couldn’t look at her, either, not when she was staring at it as if it was something to observe rather than hate. It was too out of character for him.

“This explains everything,” Pidge said, her breath touching his skin, she was so close to him. “I wasn’t sure if I was right.”

“This would be a lot more helpful if you explained what that meant!” Lance’s voice rose at least ten octaves.

Keith opted to look at Lance. The remorse he felt wasn’t worth it. Lance went exceedingly pale, which was not a good colour on him.

_Breathe_ , Shiro’s deep voice resonated in his mind, a touch more solid than the Shiro that stood before him. _Breathe in, then exhale. And then do it again. It’s okay._

He squeezed his eyes shut.

Whatever Pidge thought, if she knew anything about this, then she already knew more than he did. That was good, right? She was about a trillion times more likely to believe him if she knew there was a large margin for the paranormal to happen. He remembered when she had tried to leave Voltron to find her brother. She couldn’t be counted out for not being reckless.

Things were working out. That’s what he had wanted. Being part-Galra was the price he had to pay for that.

_In, out. In, out. You’re doing fine, Keith._

“Keith?” Lance said, putting his hand on Keith’s side. “Pidge, let go. He—he can’t breathe or something.”

Pidge let go, bringing the rest of the gauze with her. Even with his eyes shut, he could feel them staring, burning over his skin, that single patch of fur.

“I would let go of him too,” Pidge said. “Because that’s not the real Keith.”

Lance cursed loudly and released him.

Keith probably should’ve been relieved that Pidge was apparently doing his job for him.

_Everything will be okay. Breathe in. Out. In. Out._

He wasn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a mini-prequel to this fic was posted [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7958935)! :D it's not much, but it's my little "thank you" for 2k kudos! also, you may notice that this series is tagged as incomplete. take that however you want. :P
> 
> i'm sorry for the slow update! the reaction to the last chapter was super overwhelming, mostly in a good way, but i did get some really not-nice messages on my tumblr that stalled me from writing this for a few days. 
> 
> i have a lot of thoughts on this fic that i want to say. i dont want to spoil anything though, so i'll probably dump them all in a text post after it's over. mainly, i just want to say thank you to everyone who has endured this far and that i appreciate it more than you guys will ever know. i have never written anything this long before in my life, and no matter how paranoid or self-conscious i get about it, it flatters me beyond words to know that so many people are enjoying going on this journey with me.
> 
> i will be going back a few weeks after this fic is over to edit a lot of stuff, especially the first ten or so chapters. 
> 
> now with that aside, updates will most likely come once a week now, since i'm back in school. also because i have multiple other fic drafts that are currently in progress. expect weekly updates unless something comes up!
> 
> as always, you can talk to me on [tumblr](http://koizumi.tumblr.com/) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/tsukaleoluvr69)! i don't reply to anon msgs on tumblr normally unless they're questions, but i promise i read every single message and comment i get both on here and on tumblr.
> 
> thank you for reading!


	20. Chapter 20

“Keith.”

There was a hand on his shoulder. It was big and warm and familiar. His head was spinning and he wasn’t sure he could look up at all, but he would recognize that hand anywhere.

“Keith,” Shiro repeated. “Can you hear me?”

“Maybe it’s some kind of trigger,” Pidge said. She was on her portable. The light was hurting Keith’s eyes. He squinted and ducked his head more, rubbing his forehead. Shiro’s hand brushed further along his shoulder, and then shook him gently.

“I don’t—” Lance said. Keith saw Hunk’s arm move, to pat Lance on the back. They were both shaking.

“Someone get water,” Shiro said. 

Hunk moved to the other end of the room and opened the fridge. He smelled the last bits of cake and fresh food that Hunk had brought last week when the door opened. 

“If he gets sick, it’ll alert the doctors via his bracelet. We can’t let that happen.” Pidge clicked her portable off and tucked it into her bag.

Keith’s eyes drifted to his wrist. Without the gauze, he could see the blood beginning to crust over the area where he’d pulled out the fur. Some of it had been ripped off when Pidge grabbed it, and the rest of it bristled every time one of the others moved.

“Here.” Hunk held out a water bottle. Keith stared at it; he didn’t want to move his hand. Shiro sighed and took it, unscrewing the cap and then holding it to Keith’s lips.

He let Shiro tilt his head back, the water seeping into his mouth. It felt nice, quenching the thirst he didn’t know he had. After a few seconds, Shiro pulled the bottle back.

“Can someone please explain what’s going on?” Lance said, voice breaking.

“It’s kind of a long story,” Pidge said. She began to walk around their room, squinting at things on the walls and the table. If he knew anything about Pidge, in any universe, it was that she was scrutinizing every little detail. “Keith will be able to tell it better. I don’t know everything.”

Shiro held the bottle out, just in case Keith wanted to take more. He felt like an animal, being observed at a zoo. Any movement would grab their attention again.

“He’s not really in the state for that right now,” Shiro said. “You can start.”

While Pidge was turned away, Keith ran his fingers over the fur. It was rougher than before with flecks of blood crusted in between each strand. Shiro put his hand over Keith’s and guided it away wordlessly.

“Fine. It started when Keith was in his coma. We all know that there’s no way for a ship to just crash, at least not in the way that his did. Even if Lance royally fucked up the controls, you don’t just go crashing into the Earth. They would’ve glided if it was related to the ship maneuvering. Which meant that it had to do with the ship itself,” Pidge said, stopping in front of the desk. Keith looked up, only slightly, to see her staring at the photos he and Lance had been going through a few days ago.

Hunk cleared his throat and put his arm around Lance’s shoulders, hugging him to his side. “To be exact, the only two things that could cause that kind of crash are an engine failure or turning off the jets, which isn’t possible from the controls. So…”

“When Keith first went into his coma, Lance said that he was at the front of the ship piloting when it went down. I asked Hunk to question him a few days after that to confirm. Same story both times. This meant that either Lance was lying, which he wasn’t, or that Keith crashed the ship.”

Lance opened his mouth, then closed it. His fingers inched over his pant leg. Keith lifted his head and met Shiro’s eyes. He knew that this wasn’t his Shiro, everyone knew that this wasn’t his Shiro now, and yet he still felt like he was being scolded.

“Keep going,” Shiro urged.

“There was no research being done on the crash until Keith woke up, so I had to wait until then. His reaction that day was really weird, which pretty much confirmed my theory that he was trying to hide something. I thought he was just trying to hide what he had done to make the ship crash, but then Shiro—you said that Keith forgot how to speak Japanese.”

“What?” Lance rubbed his cheek with his palm. “You knew?” he turned to Shiro accusingly.

“I thought he had amnesia,” Shiro explained as calmly as possible. “That’s what he told me. And he didn’t forget it. He was confused.”

“And then,” Pidge cleared her throat, silencing them. “And then I was like, okay, that’s even weirder. It doesn’t matter what he forgot, the point is that he forgot something. We all know that Shiro and Keith gossip about us in Japanese every day. You can’t just forget things like that. The doctors didn’t say he had amnesia or anything that could cause it, though.”

“That’s because they’re hiding something,” Lance said. He was grasping for straws now. “They’re probably the ones who did this!”

“You don’t even know what this is yet,” Pidge waved her hand dismissively. “The point is, Keith didn’t remember a life-defining trait of his. To be extra-sure, I went and talked to him and pressed him to see if he knew anything about the crash. He didn’t, and he definitely wasn’t lying because he didn’t get angry at me.”

He tried to recall that conversation. The memories of him and Lance lounging around were the freshest in his mind still; he could vaguely remember talking to Pidge the day after he woke up. Her comment about the crash was what had made him begin researching into the circumstances of the crash in the first place. 

He should’ve known she was plotting something then. She wouldn’t have dropped such big hints if she wasn’t trying to get something out of him. 

“At the same time, my brother started to look at the parts they salvaged from the crash. Nothing big came up at first, aside from that audio recording that I know Shiro took because he didn’t properly disguise his portable when transferring it.”

Hunk laughed and then covered his mouth with his hand.

“At first?” Lance asked. Those two words carried a lifetime of fear in them.

“I asked Hunk to come in one day. He and Matt examined the remnants of the paneling from the ship together and discovered long lines on the outside—scratch marks, if that wasn’t clear enough. Definitely not human nails, and not Keith’s. At first I thought that some kind of animal had made its way onto the ship and attacked Keith while they were flying, until a few days ago.”

“This is the part where she stopped telling me things, by the way,” Hunk announced.

“Oh, shush,” Pidge let out a puff of air and took out her portable again. “I didn’t tell you because it’s a pretty fucked up theory. No one was going to believe me if I tried to present it without evidence. Luckily, it’s now standing right in front of us.”

Keith wanted to sink onto the floor and hide underneath the carpet. It sounded like Pidge was calling him out, rather than trying to help him; and that meant that she could have the wrong idea about who he was. Some kind of alien impostor, and not Keith—not another version of himself. 

“I can explain,” Keith said. He stepped away from Shiro and hid his wrist behind his back. 

“In a second,” Pidge said. Her portable screen projected into the air. “Everyone should see this.”

Everyone turned to stare. Keith had no idea what he was looking at. It was some kind of reading, like on a heart monitor or on the dashboard of a ship.

“Oh,” Hunk said.

“What am I even looking at?” Lance leaned forward. His eyes were still massive, like he couldn’t bring himself to blink in case he missed a single word or action.

“It’s an energy reading of the ship at the time of the crash. Stolen from classified Garrison files, so don’t go around telling anyone, thank you. I hacked into their internal system and grabbed it from some big-shot’s emails.”

Hunk looked over his shoulder at Keith. Keith licked his lips, surveying the line on the graph. It was static, and then it jumped up massively, until it all but disappeared before going back to its normal value.

“As I’m sure you all can see, there was a massive spike of energy when the ship started to go down. Like, massive. Huge. This picture can’t even portray how big it is. Now, the Garrison scientists think that it’s a black hole. I disagree.”

“That’s silly. If it was a black hole, we would all be dead right now,” Hunk said. He stood in front of the projection, tapping his chin.

“Exactly.” Pidge left the projection up and set her portable onto the bed. “The fact that the Garrison was hiding this made me wonder what else they were hiding. So, just to be safe, I grabbed every email that mentioned Keith’s name. They were using code words, but they kept talking about this ‘experimental miracle drug’—” she used air quotes, “—that were supposedly the reason for Keith’s miraculous recovery. Except one of the doctors sent in a request form for a large amount of gel, completely harmless stuff. Way more than what would normally be needed to produce a drug.”

“That they used to make the fake capsules.” Shiro pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut.

“I grabbed Hunk and we broke into the medbay together and stole a bottle. Cracked it open, and voila, nothing substantial inside. Useless. Keith’s recovery wasn’t from some miracle drug, it was because of himself, or that energy that occurred during the crash. Or both.”

Keith needed to sit down, else he was going to fall over. He held onto the wall, digging his nails into it as best as he could to steady himself. The same nails that caused this stupid switch to happen in the first place. They were a little too hard and sturdy to be entirely human.

“I’ve been trying to convince Lance for a week and a half,” Keith said. 

“What?” Lance screeched, jumping up like a cat. “My first instinct at you not remembering things isn’t that you tried to murder me and that you’re not—not real! Of course I didn’t believe you.”

“It’s okay,” Shiro said, though it was decidedly not okay. “Let him explain.”

“I’m not some random alien. I’m—I’m Keith. I’m myself. But I’m not—ugh,” Keith covered his face with his hand and tugged on his fringe. It stung his scalp. He had to phrase this in a way that wouldn’t make them more suspicious of him. He was fortunate they hadn’t handcuffed him yet immediately after seeing the horrifying fur that sat on his wrist. 

“I’m Keith from another universe. We’re all friends, just—we’re paladins, and we fight the Galra. I was fighting in my ship and made the call to drive myself into the enemy in order to cause a chain reaction to stop them from destroying a shit ton of planets. I was ejected, choked in space, and then woke up here.”

Everyone was staring at him. Pidge was smiling, which was slightly terrifying and very nauseating. Shiro’s expression was carefully controlled, his lips pursed in thought. 

“Please don’t tell me you guys actually believe this,” Lance laughed nervously. “You said the Garrison knew about all this. That could mean he’s—he’s being controlled, right?”

“None of the drugs he’s been given would support that,” Pidge said. 

“People can’t just travel between universes!” Lance waved his arms, then ran his hands down the back of his head. “What he’s saying is impossible.”

“The theory that he’s hallucinating is impossible too,” Shiro said. “Or not plausible. We all saw his wrist.”

“Right,” Pidge nodded and walked over to Keith. She was half his size, and yet he’d never felt more intimidated by her. “It’s reminiscent of those things you fight, right?”

Keith’s hand flopped uselessly behind him. “I know how to fight.”

“Oh my god,” Lance said in the background. “Pidge, stop.”

“I don’t want to fight you,” Pidge’s eyebrows raised. “I just want to see. Your reaction kind of gave it away that it wasn’t just any ordinary ‘human growing fur’ incident.”

Keith bit his lip. A bitter copper taste flooded into his mouth when he drew blood. 

He would give anything to go back to his home, or anywhere that wasn’t here, to a world where he didn’t have purple fur on his hand. 

His hand was shaking uncontrollably, to the point where he almost hit himself in the stomach while he was raising it. Pidge took his palm in both of her hands and turned his arm over.

Far more carefully than before, she ran her index fingers over the fur. “It’s all bloody.”

“I think I’m going to be sick,” Lance said, then put his hand over his mouth. He ran to the bathroom and shut the door behind him.

“I’ll make sure he’s okay.” Hunk hadn’t taken his eyes off of Keith since Pidge set her portable down. “Be careful.” He joined Lance in the bathroom. While Keith couldn’t hear what Lance was yelling, he knew they were talking.

“I wasn’t trying to deceive anyone,” Keith said hurriedly. “I’ve been trying to fix things. That’s why Lance and I left the Garrison, and—I’ve spent every day since I woke up here trying.”

He looked at Shiro as he spoke. Looking at Pidge would require him to look at the fur as well, and the bathroom was already preoccupied. He wasn’t sure if he could glance at it without feeling sick.

Shiro’s expression wasn’t angry like Keith had expected. Not that Shiro got angry a lot. He looked pitying, mostly; his head turned towards the bathroom where Hunk and Lance were. He didn’t expect either of them to come out soon.

“This is a lot of information to learn at once. We need to choose what to prioritize,” Shiro said. He faced Pidge. 

“We need Lance to come out and stop being a baby first, so Hunk can come out and we can figure out how this happened. The energy reading doesn’t tell us how it happened, just that something happened at all. And knowing the Garrison, they’re not going to let this slide.” Her nose crinkled. “We’re kind of working against them here.”

Shiro slipped his hand into his pocket and then pulled out the USB drive. “Have you already heard it?”

“Yeah,” Pidge said.

Keith eyed the USB in Shiro’s palm. He could reach out and grab it, and possibly run, but then he’d have four people chasing after him. That wouldn’t get him anywhere.

He needed to stop those kinds of trains of thoughts. Pidge was giving him an opportunity to prove himself. The flight-or-fight instincts had to be stalled. 

“Would it help if I told you how I—what happened before I passed out?” The word ‘died’ almost slid off his tongue, despite not knowing how his body, his real body back in his home, was doing. He couldn’t imagine them letting him drift through space; Pidge and Lance had been reaching to him before he shut his eyes. The chances of surviving a total lack of oxygen were also slim, though. 

“Hm,” Pidge stroked her chin. “Go ahead. I might not believe you, but you can try.”

Keith breathed in harshly. His lungs were constricted, as if they were bundled up in his chest, prohibiting him from taking in air properly. Shiro ran his hand down Keith’s back.

“You can sit down if you want,” he said. 

“Yeah, alright,” Keith mumbled. He sat down on his and Lance’s bed. The mattress was just as plush as ever, and freshly cleaned from when Lance had done laundry a few days ago. It wasn’t his bed back home, but it had begun to feel natural to lie on it. 

Shiro sat down beside him, a respectable four or five inches away. Pidge stood in front of them, still tapping her chin.

“I don’t think we need to wait for Lance and Hunk,” Shiro said.

Keith tilted his head downwards, rubbing his eyes. “Okay, well,” he attempted to think as objectively as possible, about the things that would help them figure this out. If he put any bias into it, it could make them think he had some kind of agenda. “It’ll make more sense if I start from the beginning. Since I—” 

His wrist started to burn again. He rubbed at it harshly and turned his arm over, grimacing. 

Shiro mumbled something quietly. Keith didn’t have to hear it to know it was some form of it’s okay, keep going.

“I attended the Academy too, with Shiro. We didn’t know any of you guys at the time—albeit Lance seemed to think we were rivals, I didn’t really pay attention to anyone else. Shiro was appointed to the Kerberos Mission for his outstanding flight skills. The actual mission doesn’t really matter. The only thing that matters is that everyone involved was captured. That included Shiro, and your brother,” he nodded at Pidge.

“A mission with Shiro and my brother,” Pidge looked at Shiro. “That sounds familiar.”

“There’s a lot of parallels, but there’s way more that’s different,” Keith sighed. He wished things were the same; if the only thing that had been different was that Lance was madly in love with him, the past two weeks could’ve gone a lot better. “After Shiro was declared dead, I kind of—I got kicked out of the Academy. I didn’t have anywhere to go, so I moved to this shack in the middle of nowhere.”

Shiro stirred beside him, shifting his legs restlessly. Regardless of whether he was looking at him or not, Keith could tell when Shiro was nervous. 

“There was something calling to me. Like, some kind of energy. It brought me to this cave, the one that Lance and I went to. There were all of these drawings inside, telling a story of a lion that could save the universe. It didn’t make any sense at the time, but I kept going back, just in case. It couldn’t have been nothing.”

“And it was like that here, too? Lance can testify?” Pidge urged him.

“Yeah.” Over the top of Shiro’s head, he could see that the bathroom door was still tightly shut. There was a smattering of noise coming through the crack. Otherwise, could only assume that Lance was going through the five stages of grief. Keith was still going through them as well.

“Good,” Pidge nodded.

“A year passed. Some other stuff happened that’s not important. Shiro crashed back onto Earth one day and so I went to get him, which is when I ran into you guys—you, Hunk, and Lance—for the first time. The Garrison wasn’t happy that we tried to take him, so I took you guys to my home. We went to the cave, and when Lance touched the walls, they glowed. In the cave was his Lion—”

“Okay, wait, what do you mean by lion? Like, is it a literal lion?”

It felt so stupid to hear that coming from her. He bit his tongue. “It’s a robot-like ship that’s in the shape of a lion. They’re sentient. Lance’s is blue, so we call her Blue. Some other stuff happened, and she lead us to a planet where we met Allura and Coran, the only two living Alteans alive.”

He paused to see if they were listening. Shiro nodded and placed his hand over Keith’s; the hand that wasn’t marred by fur. It made him feel infinitely worse for what he was about to say.

“Shiro was captured by this race called the… Galra. Their leader, Zarkon, wants to take over the universe. When he was in their captivity, they replaced his arm with a prosthetic. That’s the closest I’ve seen of someone having Galra… stuff in them.”

He decided to take out the part about Shiro being forced to fight for entertainment, and how many creatures he had defeated. The chances of that having anything to do with the switch, two years later, was doubtful. He didn’t want to make Shiro any more upset than he already was, no matter how hard he was trying to hide it.

“The Galra found us and attempted to attack us. Allura directed us to find the other four lions. Yellow for Hunk, Green for you,” he gestured towards Pidge, “Red for me, and Black for Shiro. And then we took off of the planet and flew through space, saving as many people as we could from Zarkon’s rule.”

“Is that it?” Shiro asked. His fingers grazed along Keith’s. 

“What do you mean?” Keith replied.

Pidge watchfully eyed their hands. She was being cautious, which he supposed was a good thing, for the others’ sakes. It was only annoying because she had been the one to make him open up in the first place. Her, and Lance, and Shiro and Hunk by association.

He desired nothing more than to yell at them that they’d caused him this much trouble—he had a right to demand that they believe him. 

“There’s nothing else about these Galra that you can tell us?” she clarified.

“They’re extremely technologically advanced. They can wield magic. I don’t know the full extent of their abilities. Most of them are good at fighting and crave blood.” He licked the copper taste off his lips again. “We were fighting a whole fleet of them that day when I—woke up here. They were employing a scare tactic, I guess, by aiming for a massive host of planets behind us instead of at us.”

“And you sacrificed yourself,” Shiro finished for him. “I bet no one was happy about that.”

Keith smiled wryly. “I trusted that you all would catch me. And if I didn’t live, they could find another pilot for Red. It’d be hard, but not impossible. No one was reckless enough to try it except me. I had to.”

Pidge sat down on his other side, kicking her legs up onto their bed. He scowled, thinking of her shoes dirtying their fresh sheets, when it occurred to him that he might not sleep in this room anymore.

“And so you’re one of these Galra things, huh?” she said.

He flinched without being able to stop himself.

“Pidge,” Shiro scolded. It sounded exactly the same as home.

He hadn’t spent much time with any of them, aside from Lance. He didn’t know the extent of their similarities. Lance was eerily similar to himself back home, besides him being in love with Keith. How far did the parallels run? It was the kind of curiosity he would’ve stopped himself from having two weeks ago.

“What? It’s the most vital fact out of all of this, if he’s telling the truth. The Galra have big technology, Keith is a Galra, their technology goes off when he crashes into their ship and confuses Keith’s Galra genes or whatever. He ends up here. The end.”

Shiro frowned. She was right. He didn’t want to believe she was right—that wouldn’t change the fact that she was.

“Yeah,” he confirmed quitly. “I’ve felt Galra fur before. It’s—it’s like this.”

“Hmm,” Pidge reached into her bag. “I want to take a sample. It’ll be an easy way to test part of his story, and maybe we’ll find something unexpected. Like, a trace of a universe-travelling chemical. I don’t know.”

“A universe-travelling chemical?” Shiro repeated back to her.

“I said I don’t know!”

Keith chuckled bitterly, curling into himself. He hid his face against his knees and shut his eyes. 

“I’m going to shave the rest off,” he said quietly. “I can’t look at it.”

“That’s fine, as long as I get my sample first.” She clicked her tongue. 

“Later, Pidge,” Shiro waved his hand. “None of us are going to get any sleep tonight anyways. There’s still four hours until classes begin.”

“I need to get a vial and tweezers. Contrary to what you may believe, I don’t carry random stuff around. I can sneak into any of the labs easily as long as I have someone else to hold the alarm for me. And by that, I mean I need Hunk to hurry up.” She kicked her feet.

Shiro pursed his lips, then nodded in understanding. “I’ll check on them.” 

Hunk hadn’t come running out, so Lance couldn’t be hurt, just distraught. Shiro stood up, letting Keith’s hand slip from his, and went to the bathroom door.

He knocked on it; the door creaked open and he saw Hunk’s hand pull Shiro in. It shut again.

Keith held his hands to his chest, swiping the one Shiro had held away from the bed. Pidge was staring holes into the side of his head, her smiling having fallen.

“I do think you’re telling the truth,” she said. “I’m not going to advocate that you’re telling the truth because you might not be. Plausible deniability and all that. Personally, though, I think you are.”

He plucked a strand of fur from his wrist and rolled it in between his fingers. The end of the fur was white, showing where it sunk into his skin, and it was beaded with dry blood on the other end. 

“Thanks,” he muttered. It sounded dry. His throat was hoarse from choking in the bathroom earlier.

Now that Shiro was gone, he felt exhausted. It was bad to rely on him for comfort when Shiro, like Pidge, would always most likely remain a reasonable level of cautiousness. And because relying on other people in this world had a 0-1 track record so far, with Lance. 

“It’s completely absurd. People shouldn’t be able to travel through time, let alone parallel universes, with the technology that exists right now. But, then again, I wasn’t sure if aliens existed until,” she glanced at the watch on her wrist, “an hour and a half ago, so.”

“I’m not—” he started naturally, then clamped his mouth shut.

He was an alien. It didn’t matter how he became one, whether it was through tinkering, or by birth, or whether it was this Keith only or the real him too. He was an alien and that’s what had caused all of this.

Pidge patted his back. Her hands were small, like a child’s. She looked infinitely younger than he remembered her from home, much more than the difference in any of the others, and much closer to how she looked when they had first met. That felt like decades ago. 

She was still mature beyond her years, and one of the smartest, if not the smartest person Keith had ever met. However, the experience of losing her brother wasn’t there. In the way she spoke and acted; the privateness that he had grown used to around her was missing. It was one of the reasons why it was so easy for him to sit with her in the hangar of the ship, floating through space in silence. She wouldn’t press him beyond what she would be comfortable with, and he wouldn’t press her.

“You don’t have any memories from here?” Her hand settled on his shoulder.

“No.”

She lowered her legs onto the floor, kicking them against the bottom of the bed. “I wish you did. I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but I’m going to anyways since it might help put things into perspective.”

“Is it about Lance?”

She snickered lightly. “Yeah, it is. You guys are literally joined at the hip. You squabble a lot, and yet I’ve never seen two people better suited for each other. I wasn’t sure if things would work out at first. You’re both intensely headstrong and rash. It did, in the end. So that’s why it alerted me that something was wrong when you woke up and looked confused why Lance was there—and then the next few days, Lance spent all of his classes sulking over the ‘loss’ of your relationship.”

Keith curled his lip inwards, flicking the fur onto the floor. 

“I don’t want to make you feel bad, just help you try and understand what Lance is feeling right now. He’ll get over it once he recognizes the chance to get his actual boyfriend back.” She glanced over at the bathroom door. “We’ll all fix this together.”

“Alright,” Keith replied, popping his lip out and licking it. The bleeding had stopped there, too. He needed a good shower, so he could shave and wipe all of the grime from their trip and blood off. 

“I’m sure of it.”

The bathroom door opened and Keith turned his cheek to see them. Shiro had his arm around Lance’s shoulders, tucking his face to his chest. Hunk smiled wryly at them.

“We going to go now?” he asked Pidge.

“Yeah,” she climbed off the bed, grabbing her portable and turning it off. “It shouldn’t take long. Shiro, want to come with?”

Shiro ruffled Lance’s hair and then slowly extracted himself from Lance’s grip. “Sure.” He leaned over and whispered something into Lance’s ear. 

Keith frowned; he could feel the lines on his face deepening. “Wait—”

Shiro passed him to grab his own bag that he’d set on the bed. Leaning over, his lips brushed over Keith’s ear. “Hear him out, and have a real discussion, okay?” He gave Keith the same hair ruffle he did to Lance. “We’ll work on fixing things.”

“Be careful,” Hunk said. Keith had no idea whether he was talking to Lance or him. He guessed Lance.

“Keep an eye on him!” Pidge called.

The other three soundlessly left the room and locked the door behind them; one of them must have swiped Lance’s key.

Keith hadn’t moved from his place on the bed.

Lance stood up straighter and rubbed at his face. Keith didn’t need to look directly at him to know that he had been crying. He took a loud breath in, and then walked right up to Keith and sat down beside him.

Two inches away. It wasn’t that far; however, it was infinitely further from Lance’s constant hugs. He felt bare in the silence.

“Hunk said something that reminded me of how you said you thought—or you haven’t dated someone before.” Lance’s voice was just as hoarse as his, unusually quiet and rough at the edges. Keith’s skin prickled, as if a wave of cool air had brushed over it, however, it wasn’t about him being cold; the difference in Lance’s demeanor scared him a little. “When I showed you those pictures and stuff, it was to try and help you understand what we’re like normally. To like, reawaken your feelings.”

Keith uncurled from his ball and placed his hands on his lap, covering the fur with his other palm. He knew where this was going.

“And then it turns out there’s a huge chance that there isn’t any feelings there in the first place,” Lance sighed, staring at his own lap. He looked at Keith out of the corner of his eyes, but didn’t face him properly. “This is going to sound stupid, since we’re still students, but I really want to marry you. You—you have no idea how happy you make me. I told you, things aren’t usually like this. I want to graduate, buy a ship, traverse the galaxy, find new things… I want to do it all with you.”

Keith wanted to say something, anything, either to defend his own honor or soothe Lance’s. He didn’t know what he could say.

“So, I guess, uh,” Lance played with his hands, flexing and unflexing his fingers. “I guess I need to apologize. I’m sorry for pushing you. I…” He chewed the skin off of his lip. “It doesn’t matter if you’re my—the real Keith or not. That’s what Shiro said. He said I was still being an asshole, even if you were hallucinating, just by brushing it off for so long. Except in a nicer way, since he’s Shiro.” Lance laughed. “I really, really—”

“I know you were trying to help,” Keith said. He tilted his head back and looked at Lance normally. His cheeks were wet and shiny, and his eyes were flickering between opening and closing, as if unsure of themselves. “I’m not mad at you, just… it’s frustrating, and—” Scary, he wanted to say, “—difficult.”

Lance nodded gradually and his hands stopped moving. “I haven’t been helping with that much, have I?” He lifted his shoulders and looked at Keith. 

Lance’s eyes weren’t a sharp colour; they were a murky, dark shade of blue that suited him much more. Lance was normally bright by nature. He didn’t need the brightness in his eyes, ordinarily, as his personality made up for it and more. 

Now, however, he simply looked sad, in a way that made Keith think he was trying to fight it back and not show it. 

“I want to go home,” Keith said for the thousandth time, both out loud and in his head. “I want the real Keith to come home here, too. I don’t—I’d never want you to be sad. I can tell that… that you really love me—him, and I know that…” He had to advert his gaze from Lance’s again. He couldn’t look at him for this. “I know that he must really love you too, and if he’s in my place, in space, two years from now, he’s probably terrified out of his mind. I’m not going to say you two need each other to live, because that kind of codependency isn’t good. You can survive without him, but you shouldn’t have to, and—it’s not my fault, but—”

He kept stumbling over his words, losing his train of thought to the knowledge that Lance was sitting across from him, listening quietly, not interrupting. 

“I would take care of him,” Lance puffed out his cheeks slightly. 

Keith tried to imagine Lance babying a younger version of him. Showing him around the ship, introducing him to Red, telling him over-exaggerated stories of their adventures. He didn’t think of the sadder side to it. “You guys all would. We take care of a lot of people in general.”

Lance reflected on Keith’s words, not talking.

Keith thought, so intensely that his brain began to hurt, about what he should say next. There was so much that he wanted to say, and could say, and yet most of it was useless. “Back when we first met, I didn’t know if we could ever get along. And now you’re one of my only and closest friends. I didn’t—I’m sure you know this, but I didn’t really have any friends before, besides Shiro. The truth is, no matter how much we argue, I—” He sighed. “I love you. I don’t say that a lot to anyone.”

“Is that different from the other times you’ve said it?” Lance asked.

Keith leaned forward. “Since I told you about what happened, a week and a half or whatever ago, I haven’t said or done anything that I didn’t want to. So, no. It’s not any different. I’ve been telling the truth this whole time.”

“I see,” Lance said, sucking in his chest deeply. “Is your wrist still bleeding?” Lance continued, only a moment later. “I’ll help you clean it off.”

“Alright,” Keith said. 

Lance went to the bathroom to get a first aid kit and Keith looked at the fur. He was grateful that Lance had offered, even if it was only because of what Keith had just admitted. He didn’t want to have to stare at it, bloodied and dirty.

Lance brought back the entire first aid kit and opened it up on the bed, kneeling down in front of Keith. He held out his palm wordlessly and Keith fit his wrist into his hand, opting to look at the top of Lance’s head while he worked.

“Sorry if this hurts,” Lance said. He squirted some disinfectant onto a cotton pad and started to rub it onto the wound.

“I somehow survived choking in space. This is nothing compared to that.”

Lance moved little by little, deliberately catching every part of the wound at least once with a fresh patch of the disinfectant. It did sting, but it wasn’t anything he hadn’t experienced before.

“Maybe it’s because I don’t get it, but I’m not surprised you’re an alien. You’re otherworldly.”

Keith snorted. It was entirely because Lance didn’t get it. “That was awful,” he grumbled, biting back a smile.

“I don’t know anything about these Galra people. I don’t need to know anything about them to know that it doesn’t matter what most of them are like. You’re still yourself.” He rubbed a dry cotton pad over the wound. 

“I don’t think you’re going to say that to me when I get back. Any of you guys. I can’t be mad, it’s—it’s unrealistic to think that anyone could throw away two years of hatred for a race in a moment, just because their friend turned out to be one.” 

Lance removed the cotton pad and then shut the first aid kit, throwing the dirty supplies into a bag. “I wasn’t talking about anyone else’s reaction. I don’t know them. I’d like to think I wouldn’t be angry—I don’t know. I was talking about you and your own reaction.”

He tied the bag closed and threw it into the trash, then brought the first aid kit back into the bathroom. He took a seat beside Keith again, the same distance away from him.

“Thank you, for believing me,” Keith said.

“I don’t know if I believe you. Honestly, I don’t really know what’s going on anymore. The idea of you—him—Keith, I mean—being somewhere else—it bothers me. He doesn’t deserve that. His biggest worry should be being here, about what his time in the flight simulator and what his first mission will be. Not anything about saving the universe. I’m going to go along with this because there’s a chance that it’s true, now, and—I don’t want to say I didn’t try and help him at all, whether or not it’s true or if it works out.”

“I understand.”

“Plus, you deserve to go ‘home’ and be happy. We both do,” Lance ended.

Keith didn’t say anything back. He wasn’t sure how he could be happy in this situation. It wasn’t only about being in a different universe, now; it was having to face possibly belonging to a race that he hated more than anything, having to work against the place that housed and fed them, and his own feelings.

“Here,” Lance said. He spread his arms and rotated so that he was across from Keith.

“What?” Keith frowned.

“You don’t need to accept it if you don’t want to, but you looked like you needed a hug.”

Lance’s fingers wiggled and he kept his arms up, waiting. Keith thought privately that Lance needed a hug just as much as he did, and that he was doing it for himself as well.

In the end, it didn’t really matter. One hug wasn’t going to change anything between them, and he appreciated Lance trying still. He felt almost guilty now for assuming Lance would yell at him; Keith supposed that Lance had gotten all of that out while with Hunk, and Shiro had knocked sense into him. Lance was smart enough to recognize that his best chance at things returning to any level of normality was to help.

Keith moved closer and let Lance’s arms wrap around him.

“Thank you too,” Lance mumbled into Keith’s shoulder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> because i still have no shame, the advertisement for my other fics continue: i wrote some [spicy nsfw](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8031721), and started two other chaptered fics; [a mmorpg-based au](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8047744/chapters/18433777) and an au solely based around the idea that [ klance deserve puppies.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8026489/chapters/18378088)
> 
> i'll also be posting another spin-off of this 'verse when this fic reaches 2.5k kudos! so hopefully this chapter? i'll do another one at 3k if we ever get there, and 3.5k, etc, albeit i can't imagine ever reaching that high lol.
> 
> thank you to everyone who has commented, subscribed, kudos'd, bookmarked, and everything in between! and the people who have msged me kind things on tumblr.
> 
> this is the longest chapter in the fic. it also has, i'm pretty sure, more dialogue than any other chapter as well. cool stuff!
> 
> talk to me on [tumblr](http://koizumi.tumblr.com) and [twitter](http://twitter.com/tsukaleoluvr69)!


	21. Chapter 21

“Lance, you don’t need to stand there and wait. No one is going to break in,” Keith grumbled, staring at the crack in the door where Lance’s back was facing him.

Lance jumped at hearing his name called. He spun around and frowned at Keith, eyebrows slanted upwards; he looked genuinely like he didn’t know what was wrong. “We know they’ve been spying on us.”

It had been three days since the others had barged into their room and, together, they began to attempt to fix things. After such an explosive series of revelations, relatively little had happened. Pidge was testing her samples of Galra hair, while Hunk and Shiro attempted to examine the audio recording and ship remnants.

The key word was ‘attempted’, since they were trying to hide their activities from the Garrison. They were all on edge about being caught, especially when the consequences were unknown. Lance, out of everyone, was by far the most cautious.

“They’re not going to barge into our room at random,” Keith huffed, holding his hand over his wrist.

Pidge had finally given him permission to shave it off. Keith didn’t know why he had to wait for her permission in the first place. When questioned, Shiro gave him a scolding look and told him to be patient.

Keith knew Shiro was right, like he usually was. He needed to cooperate if he wanted them to help him. That didn’t mean he had to be happy about it.

It was bad enough to simply be aware he was one. It was infinitely worse to have to see it. At least now he could go back to not-so-blissful ignorance with the fur coming off.

“I don’t trust them,” Lance said, turning away again and crossing his arms. “I won’t look, I promise.”

Keith sighed. He didn’t doubt that Lance was telling the truth. That didn’t mean it wasn’t uncomfortable.

“Fine,” he said, and shut the door more so the crack was barely half an inch.

He grabbed one of the red razors and Lance’s shaving cream, which smelled like shit. He held his breath as he rubbed it over his wrist, masking the fur under the white foam.

He set the tip of the razor at the edge of the fur and then gently dragged it down, over and over until the fur was clumped in between the blades. After washing it underneath warm water to get the hairs out, he repeated the motion, again and again until there was only a bright red mark on his wrist where it had been.

He groaned quietly and ran his arm underneath warm water in a sad attempt to whittle away the pain. The heat wasn’t helping. Holding his throbbing wrist still, he used his other hand to open the cupboard again to take out the first aid kit. It’d seen considerable usage within the past few days, and the amount of bandages inside were decreasing one by one.

The door creaked, and he heard Lance take a step closer, his feet sliding against the floor. “Sorry,” he said instantly. “I can help you with that.”

Keith felt himself blushing. He ducked his head and tilted it away from Lance’s view, squirting disinfectant onto a cotton pad like Lance had done multiple times for him.

“You weren’t supposed to be staring,” Keith said, bringing the disinfectant to his wrist. He winced, biting down hard on the soft interior of his cheek so he wouldn’t look like he was in too much pain. He wasn’t, not enough to warrant Lance’s concern.

“I heard the water stop so I figured you were finished.” Lance came to a stop beside him at a respectable distance. Boundaries were now of the utmost importance to Lance; every action required confirmation that it was alright to do. Keith didn’t mind. However, that didn’t mean it didn’t also annoy him slightly. “Let me see?”

Keith moved the cotton pad away and glanced down. It wasn’t bleeding, only extremely swollen. Without tender care, the skin would most likely break. He held out his wrist for Lance, letting Lance cradle it in between his palms.

“You weren’t gentle enough,” Lance said, skimming his fingers over the skin. Keith jerked a little, squirming in Lance’s grasp, and Lance pulled away. “I guess you don’t shave a lot, do you?” Lance smiled.

“Shut up,” Keith said, going even pinker. Lance’s smile split into a laugh and he squirted some more disinfectant on a towel, pressing it to Keith’s wrist.

“There really aren’t that many differences,” Lance mumbled, working the towel back and forth until his entire wrist was covered, including the parts that weren’t swollen at all. “Between you and the… real Keith.”

“I am real,” Keith snorted, staring at the wall as Lance plucked tiny stubs of hair out from his wrist, until it was completely gone. He used a dry towel to wipe the disinfectant off, then placed a large bandage over the spot.

“Yeah, you are,” Lance agreed. He patted Keith’s arm and then released him, stepping back. “Does it feel better?”

Keith turned his arm over. The fur hadn’t spread, so it wasn’t as if it had gotten worse. It felt nice to look down and not have to see it. It being gone didn’t erase the fact that it was there in the first place, but it was easier to ignore it like this.

He nodded and Lance spread his arms, as if to hug him, before dropping them to his sides awkwardly.

“Good,” Lance said. “You can go sit down and I’ll bring you some food.”

There didn’t seem to be any point in arguing with him; Keith couldn’t help himself anyways. “We need to work on decoding things.”

“What are we going to do without the others?” Lance rubbed the back of his head. “They’re all working right now, and we can’t go find them without the Garrison catching on. Just sit down. You won’t be able to ‘decode’ anything without eating.”

Lance gestured him to take a step back, then another, and then another, until his knees hit the edge of their bed and he fell onto the mattress.

“Hunk gave me some food earlier after class, so we have a lot to choose from… chicken or beef? Wait, you like chicken more, right?”

Keith crossed his arms, pressing his knees together and watching Lance move his hand around inside the fridge.

“Yeah,” he answered. It was such an odd fact for Lance to know; ‘chicken’ wasn’t something they came by a lot in space, and it had never come up in their conversations.

“Right, chicken it is. I’ll have some too, I guess.” Lance put the chicken on two plates and then brought it over to Keith, setting it on his lap. He then sat down on the bed a few inches away, readjusting himself so he could balance the plate while using his fork and knife.

Lance watched him as he ate, eyes flickering between the side of Keith’s face and his own food whenever Keith looked back at him. They both shoved chicken into their mouths to avoid talking. It was sweet and a little spicy, perfectly seasoned and cut. He could feel the nutrients sinking into his tired body and giving him energy, quenching his hunger.

The food was good. The part that made him uncomfortable was how concerned Lance looked when all Keith was doing was eating.

“You don’t need to try so hard to please me still,” Keith said, breaking the awkward silence. He nibbled on the edge of a piece of chicken, twirling the fork around in his hand.

“What do you mean?” Lance set his fork down. “I’m trying to take care of you.”

“I don’t need to be taken care of. I’m older than you, and I’m fine.” Keith shifted away, bringing his plate with him.

“You’re like, one year older than me? Supposedly?” Lance waved his hand dismissively. “If I didn’t make you eat, when would you have eaten? You probably wouldn’t have.”

“I wouldn’t starve myself,” Keith grumbled. “I wouldn’t do anything that stupid simply out of spite.”

“I never said it would be intentional.” Lance put his plate on the bed and leaned over, pressing his elbows to his knees and rubbing his face. “It makes it a thousand times harder to see you like this—”

“Like what?” Keith cut him off. “Lance, I’m fine. I’m better than I’ve been this entire time, now that I don’t have to deal with your denial.”

Lance scoffed, lifting his head. “I know that… How do I say this?” He bit his lip. “I know that you don’t think or—that I’m not the Lance you want to see, or maybe I’m not the person you’d talk to at all. Regardless, I’ll always listen if you need to vent or break down. I didn’t let you for two weeks, so I’m trying to let you now.”

“Okay,” Keith said instantly, to silence him. “I’ll keep that in mind, so you can stop acting like I’m going to run off without you or do something stupid.”

“I’d never think that,” Lance laughed. “I’ve never thought that before, ever. I can’t do anything for him—Keith—but I can do stuff for you. I can’t just stop worrying about you, or him, or any version of you, in any universe, though. And I’d never abandon you, alright? So drop it.”

Keith didn’t know what to say to that. He finished as much of the chicken as he could, eyeing Lance as his shoulders fell and any anger he had was let out.

“Sometimes I forget you aren’t him,” Lance mumbled.

“I’ve never forgotten, though you guys are really similar.” Keith sighed. “You and… the other Lance. While I don’t think he’d be as passionate about saving me as you are, everything else is pretty much the same.”

“Including my dashing good looks and talent?” Lance joked, framing his face with his hand. The joke was very empty and Keith only humoured him to get off their previous topic.

He didn’t like Lance openly proclaiming the depth of his affection for Keith like that. It wasn’t Lance’s fault entirely, for making Keith feel this way; it was his brain that was processing the words as Lance talking to him, when it was really Lance talking about the other Keith, to him.

“That’s debatable.”

“I take it back,” Lance laughed. “You’re way ruder than he is.”

“Really? I’ve never said something like that before?”

Lance stood up and turned away from him, presumably so Keith couldn’t see his expression. “He’d usually follow it up with a kiss.”

Keith followed him, setting his plate on their tiny kitchen table. Lance washed them both off and then set them aside to dry.

“Is part of it that you’ve never dated anyone?” Lance questioned, humming as he slung the towel over sink. “It’s strange to me too.”

“This is what I meant about trying too hard.”

“I’m not going to force you to answer. I’m only saying it feels like one of the reasons you’re so adverse to us being us is because you’re supposedly not used to it.”

Instead of answering, Keith walked away. Lance wasn’t the worst person he could’ve chosen to date, and he evidently loved the other Keith a lot. It didn’t mean it wasn’t weird. Dating Lance was weird, dating at all was weird.

So, in short, Lance was right, and Keith didn’t like that.

“I mean, it’s fine if you aren’t. We aren’t ‘dating’, right? No matter if you’re hallucinating or not, I guess the part of us that makes us ‘dating’ isn’t really there anymore.” Lance shrugged, a little too nonchalantly to make Keith believe he was fine with what he was saying. “I’m trying to get to know you more. This is a pretty big part of our lives.”

“Not for us—where I am.” Keith crawled underneath the sheets of their bed, taking his portable from the bedside table and opening it. He wasn’t entirely sure if he should use it anymore. He needed to get Pidge or Hunk to check for Garrison viruses on it, in case they were spying on him. The chances were slim, since he had been doing research on it this whole time and nothing had happened, but he wanted to be one-hundred percent sure.

“Tell me more,” Lance said kindly. He wiped off the table and then went to lie down alongside him, on the other side of the bed, and over the sheets.

“There’s nothing else to tell.” Keith tapped random parts of the screen so Lance would think he was doing something important. “We’re too busy saving the universe to think about dating.”

“You haven’t been saving the universe since you were a kid,” Lance said in a rush. He propped the pillow behind him up against the headboard of the bed and leaned against it.

“Did you date anyone as a kid?”

“Uh,” Lance replied.

“Exactly. And neither did I.”

“Okay, okay. So you’ve never dated anyone. That’s one thing down.” Lance wrapped his arms around his knees. “Did you know you were a Gal-raw?”

Keith’s finger stilled mid-tap. He was increasingly aware of the bandages on his wrist.

“Galra,” he corrected. “And no, I didn’t. It’s—the Galra are Galra. They aren’t humans. Galra can’t appear out of nowhere.”

“Hm,” Lance gratefully turned to stare at the ceiling instead. “Do you think the other me would be angry about it?”

“I don’t know what you would do. I don’t think you guys would be—angry,” Keith muttered. He’d imagined this scenario far too much. “More scared. Aren’t you right now?”

He went back to tapping furiously, opening and closing the same window over and over again.

“Everything scares me right now,” Lance said honestly. “Not in the way you’re thinking of, though. It’s really fucking weird, yeah, but the scary part isn’t that you’re an alien, it’s—how? That’s the part that scares me.”

“You’d be scared if you knew what the Galra were like.” Keith shuddered. “They—they tortured Shiro, dozens of others. They’ve murdered countless people, destroyed countless planets. You were less than a second away from death because of them. All of us have been.”

“Hey,” Lance said. His hand landed on Keith’s shoulder, and then brushed up to his cheek, turning his face towards him. Keith shook his head. “They sound pretty awful, I admit it. That doesn’t mean you have to be like them. I know you aren’t.”

“You don’t know me,” Keith said. Lance rubbed his thumb over the tear on Keith’s cheek. He was doing exactly what he had told Lance less than ten minutes ago he didn’t want to do; vent and break down.

Lance didn’t need to see this, and Keith certainly didn’t need to feel like this.

“I’ve known you for two weeks. Or two years.” Lance continued to wipe away Keith’s tears, not moving closer, nor pulling away. “Both of those are more than enough to know that you wouldn’t torture Shiro, murder aliens, or destroy planets.”

Keith laughed, being reminded of why he was in this world in the first place.

“Maybe you’ll get some super cool magical powers from being an alien,” Lance continued. When Keith stopped crying, which was only a few seconds later, his hand fell to Keith’s shoulder again. “That would be cool.”

“The Galra have good hearing, since they have, uh, ears that look like a cross between a cat’s and a bat’s. I don’t know if all Galra have ‘super cool magical powers’.”

“I knew you were a furry this whole time.” Keith saw Lance smirking. “That explains why you wanted me to act like a cat that one time.”

Keith jolted away. “What?” That was something he didn’t need to know about. Ever.

Lance took a good look at his face and then burst out laughing, holding his stomach. “I’m just—I’m just kidding! Oh my god, you should see your face,” Lance choked. “I did buy you a cat headband one time, that’s it.”

Seeing Lance laugh so openly made Keith laugh as well. He shut his portable and inclined his cheek on the back of his knees. “That’s disgusting.”

“It was for Halloween,” Lance defended himself. “And you wore it.”

“No way.”

“I took pictures!” Lance sniffled more and then sat up, reaching into the drawer closest to him. “I think they’re in here—yeah, in this one.” He grabbed a photo album from it and flipped to the middle.

Keith really wished it wasn’t true. It was true.

“Ugh,” he said, breathing in loudly. “Why do you have to take pictures of everything? This is the kind of image you want to burn, not keep.”

“I think you look cute.” Lance touched the picture fondly, then shut the album again, throwing it near him. “I take pictures for exactly this kind of situation.”

“That being?”

“In case you forget everything, or, god forbid, die, the memories will be immortalized. I looked at them a lot while you were in the coma.”

Keith picked up the album and set it on his legs, opening it up. He didn’t know the date when the pictures started; they both looked the same as they did now, so it couldn’t have been that long ago.

“I’m glad you’re smiling again,” Lance said.

“It’s difficult to find reasons to smile right now,” Keith replied. He went through the photos, not spending more than a few seconds on each one. Some of them weren’t of Keith and Lance; there were pictures of them with the others. There were many of Lance, Hunk, and Pidge, in their uniforms and grinning widely, arms around each other.

Lance pursed his lips in contemplation, thinking of an answer to Keith’s statement.

He never got to answer, as he heard a familiar voice. “Open up!”

Keith shut the album and put it back in the drawer while Lance opened the door for Shiro.

They were nice pictures, and that’s all they were. Pictures, and not even of him. They didn’t make him uncomfortable to look at anymore. He was realistic enough to separate the relationships in those pictures from his own.

“We finished reviewing the audio data. Properly, this time,” Shiro said, taking the USB out from his pocket. “I’m not sure how much time I have before they realize I’m gone. My commander has been breathing down my neck all day. Do you guys want to hear it? It’s not anything revolutionary, but I did promise I would bring it to you guys when we finished.”

“Yeah, of course,” Lance said, glancing at Keith, looking rather alarmed. “Technically, you promised to bring it three days ago. Lucky for you, I’m feeling rather generous today, so you’re forgiven.”

Shiro laughed and nodded towards Keith, asking him silently if it was alright. Keith nodded back. It wasn’t like whatever was in it was of him; out of the two of them, Lance was going to be the one more affected.

“We tried to decipher what was going on as best as we could. I’ll give you our theory as we listen. Lance, you can confirm or deny anything you know while it goes on.” He inserted the USB into his portable and placed it on the bed.

They sat in a triangle on the bed. Keith crossed his legs, peering at the screen as Shiro set it to play.

“Wait,” Lance said. He paused the audio before it started. “Can you, uh, summarize what’s going to happen?”

“I don’t think that’s possible,” Shiro answered softly. He pressed the button again.

Keith played with the bandages on his wrist, unsure of whether to look at Shiro or Lance.

“I cut out the audio of you guys—you and Keith talking. It starts when he leaves you,” Shiro commented.

There was a rustling, and Keith heard himself groan. It wasn’t him, but it was him. He would recognize his own voice anywhere.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Keith in the audio said. There was more rustling, and then the sound of his feet sliding across the ground. “ _Shit, where’s the first-aid kit_ …”

Lance stared at Keith like a deer caught in headlights. Keith knew where this was going; they both knew where it was going.

“Keith opened the place where the first-aid kit was supposed to be and it wasn’t there.” Shiro cocked his head towards Lance. “He began to search for it.”

“Because…” Lance trailed off. His hand reached out for Keith’s, inching over the mattress and stopping right in front of him. He dug his fingers into the sheets, bunching them up.

“ _Not right—fucking now, oh my god._ ” The audio buzzed with static, and then the noise of Keith’s breathing came through the speakers, loud and all too clear.

“You—he’s in pain,” Lance mumbled mournfully. There wasn’t anything they could do about it now. “I can tell.”

“I think we all knew this before. He hurt himself, or he was hurt. With the new information Pidge has found out, she thinks it’s the first option. By accident, not on purpose.”

“ _Keith!_ ” Lance’s voice was quieter than Keith’s in the audio, but it was loud enough to make out what he was saying. “ _What are you doing back there? Do you need help?_ ”

“ _No,_ ” Keith breathed out to himself. Then, louder, “ _No, I’m fine._ ”

“Alright,” Lance answered, not sounding like he believed Keith entirely.

The real Lance was going to tear the sheets with how hard he was grabbing them. Keith put his palm over Lance’s, the one not attached to the fur-scarred wrist, and squeezed.

“ _Why is this place so unorganized,_ ” Keith said, frustrated, and again, there was the sound of him walking around the room. His shoes squeaked, and every few seconds, Keith could hear something being opened or slammed shut. “ _Shit…_ ”

“He began opening every panel and part of the ship he could find, which is backed up by the parts of the ship we managed to recover. Most of the handles were turned in the non-standard ‘open’ position,” Shiro said.

“ _Oh—ow, oh, fuck, fuck, fuck—Lance!”_ Keith’s voice rose higher and higher, cracking higher than the speakers could stand for.

“I remember this,” Lance whispered, transfixed by the portable, or, rather, the noise coming from it. “This is—I told you this,” he said to Keith. “I was at the dash, and it said there was a failure in the—”

“ _What’s happening?_ ” Lance’s voice was higher in the tape than it was in real life. “ _Keith? Keith!_ ”

“ _I don’t know!_ ” Keith yelled back. “ _I don’t—Oh, god, fuck, fuck, ow—_ ”

There were numerous loud crashing noises, and the sound of both Keith and Lance yelling. Shiro crossed his arms. 

Lance visibly swallowed.

“ _Keith? Keith, I don’t—I don’t know what’s happening, the controls aren’t working—come here!_ ”

“ _Fuck,_ ” Keith coughed, distressed. “ _Lance, just—just get out! I can’t—I put the parachutes under the dash—_ ”

“ _What?_ ” Lance shrieked. “ _I’m not going to—shit—I’m not going to go anywhere without you! How could you even suggest that?!_ ”

The quality of the audio was getting worse and worse. “It starts to get difficult to hear from here,” Shiro warned.

“ _Lance,_ ” Keith moaned. “ _I can’t—see anything—_ ”

“ _I can’t hear you!_ ”

“ _I’m going to try and climb to you!_ ”

Something creaked, and Keith gasped. “ _No,_ ” he said. “ _Lance, stop, just grab the fucking parachute and—hah—I’m sorry, this is my—_ ”

“ _I said I can’t hear you,_ ” Lance repeated. “ _Fuck, I’m trying to—_ ”

“ _I swear on my life, Lance, I will make your life in Hell miserable if you don’t get the fuck out!_ ” Keith yelled, his voice was strained, like every word harmed him greatly. “ _Damn it, Lance!_ ”

“ _Keith,_ ” Lance cried back; the static was so loud that Keith wouldn’t have known he was saying if he didn’t recognize his own name. “ _I love you so much, I—_ ”

“ _I’ll get out,_ ” Keith promised.

“Then, Lance kicked the glass at the front and used the parachute to fly out,” Shiro said, more so to Keith than to Lance. Keith wasn’t sure if Lance was paying attention to Shiro at all.

“ _I need to get out of here_ ,” Keith said, garbled. “ _I need to… get out… I need to…_ ”

“I can’t hear anything,” Keith said. His voice in the audio was too faint now, masked by things flying around and what Keith presumed was the burning of the outside of the ship as it gained speed.

“ _I need to…_ ”

“According to the timing we pieced together, this is when that massive energy spike happened. Most of the stuff we looked at earlier today and yesterday was trying to piece the timing of this together,” Shiro said. “We aren’t… sure yet, if him talking affected it. There may be more information layered in the audio. Hunk said he’ll take another go at it later.”

True to what Keith expected, the sound of his voice in the audio ceased all together, and it ended.

Lance moved suddenly beside him, standing up from the bed and slamming his fist against the mattress.

“Lance,” Shiro reprimanded.

“No!” Lance yelled. “No, don’t—don’t Lance me.”

“Lance,” Keith echoed. Lance stilled, his whole upper body tensing. Shiro frowned, about to put his hand on Lance’s back. Keith stopped him and stood up.

He wrapped his arms around Lance’s shoulders, hugging him as tightly as he knew possible. Lance sobbed, concealing his face on Keith’s shoulder, and Keith closed his eyes.

Lance tried to speak; it only came out as cries and sniffles. Keith felt his own tears welling up in his eyes. He didn’t know why. The combination of Lance crying on his shoulder, Shiro watching them, and anger at the other Keith for things neither of them could control was getting to him.

“I’m sorry,” Lance whispered. “I’m sorry. Maybe it wasn’t—I shouldn’t have listened to that.”

“Don’t apologize to me,” Keith said back to him, just as quietly. Even if Keith was the one Lance really wanted to hold, he shouldn’t have to apologize for anything. They’ve been over this before. No matter how many times Keith reassured him, it didn’t work. Keith didn’t have their history in the weight of his words.

“I’m sorry you had to—have to go through this,” Lance amended. He held onto the bottom of Keith’s hair, breathing against his neck.

“I said don’t apologize,” Keith said.

Lance laughed, his lip quivering as he leaned back, rubbing his face. “You’ve said that before,” he said. “I know, I’m sorry.”

“You did it again.” Keith scraped his thumb over Lance’s cheek to wipe his tears, like Lance had done to him earlier.

“Ugh,” Lance kept laughing, laboured.

It didn’t seem likely that the other Keith simply asking the empty air to be saved was what had caused their switch. Knowing that he was a—an alien—that had to tie in somehow. However, it was an eerie coincidence that the blast of energy happened at that exact moment, and not before, or a few seconds after.

They both opened their eyes. Lance gave him a shaky smile, moving his arms from Keith’s waist to his sides.

There were tears still clinging to the tips of Lance’s dark eyelashes, threatening to spill over at any moment, and all of his face was wet and glossy from drying his face on Keith’s shoulder.

This was not the time for Keith to be having these kinds of thoughts—which, like any mention of him being a Galra, he was determined to dismiss from his mind immediately.

Shiro cleared his throat. “Hunk said he’s on his way here.”

Lance whirled towards him. “Why’s that?”

“I’m not sure. The last I heard, he was with Pidge.”

Lance let go of Keith. He walked to their table and swiped his portable, squinting. “No one messaged me.”

Keith checked his own portable, then. He didn’t think it was a big deal; he was expecting the others to filter into their room over the course of the day, as appeared to be the norm since he woke up.

“He’s likely just checking up on us. We haven’t really done much other than go to class for you, and sit around, for me.”

“Yeah,” Lance answered uneasily.

“Before you get distracted by Hunk, Pidge told me to give this to you.” Shiro dug into his bag and held out a piece of paper for Keith. Keith frowned at him and took it.

“What is it?” Lance asked, and was subsequently ignored.

“It’s not urgent, but we both figured you would want to see it.”

He instantly recognized it as the results from whatever preliminary scans Pidge had run on the Galra fur she took from him. He didn’t know a lot of the words written on the page; a lot of it was medical jumbo that he had never taken classes for.

There was only a single phrase that stuck out to him. He suspected this was what she had wanted him to know: regenerative properties. It was confirmation of what Keith knew about the Galra, and, unfortunately, it reaffirmed that it was truly Galra fur.

He folded the paper. “Thank you, Shiro.”

“Aw, come on. Why do you guys always ignore my questions?” Lance sighed.

“Everything that’s vital will be shared between everyone,” Shiro reassured him.

Lance bit his lip, the corners of his lips turning downwards. “His health is vital to me.”

“I’ll tell you later, Lance,” Keith said. “I don’t want to be interrupted when Hunk comes.”

“Hm,” Shiro gave Keith an odd look. “I should get going, then. They’ll want me to work for another hour or two before signing out, since I took such a long break.”

“Can I keep the USB?” Lance said, holding out his palm.

Shiro smiled warmly. “Sure,” he said, dropping it into his hand. “Take care of him.” He didn’t specify who he was talking to.

After Shiro left, Lance wrapped up the USB in a cloth and shoved it securely into his pocket.

“Are you alright?” Keith asked tentatively.

Sometimes, he forgot how quickly everything happened. People coming into their room by the hour, carrying new information that further changed their lives, especially Lance’s. It’d only been two weeks, and yet it felt like he’d been here for years.

“Yeah,” Lance said, straightening his back. “I got my daily cry out, so I’m good for the next twenty-four hours at least.”

Keith laughed, hiding his smile behind his hand. It didn’t feel right to laugh over something so serious as Lance panicking, however, Lance looked happy enough at his own joke. He was always the type to laugh at serious situations, even if the laughter was unwarranted. Keith never understood that. “You cry more than once a day.”

“I’m a sensitive, caring person. I can’t help it,” Lance snickered and grasped Keith’s hand. “You’ll tell me if it hurts? While it wasn’t bleeding before, you moving around so much might split it open.”

Keith went a little warmer, confused, until he understood what Lance was talking about. “Yeah, I will.”

Lance nodded, examining Keith’s wrist. “I’m sorry that—you have to deal with all of my emotional baggage. I know it sucks, to have to deal with a past you don’t know.”

“Stop apologizing, geez. Also, you really believe me now? ” Keith questioned.

Lance chuckled, letting go of Keith’s wrist and cautiously placing his hand on Keith’s hips. In his home world, it would have been so out of character for them that Keith would have jumped back; here, it felt natural for Lance to have one hand on him as they spoke. It wasn’t intrusive enough that he was pressured by it.

“I don’t know,” Lance confessed. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to be sure of it, no matter how long this ends up taking to sort out.”

“It kind of sucked when you didn’t believe me at all, so I’ll take you half-believing me over that.”

Lance laughed more, throwing his head back. His eyes were still red from crying, and his hair was tousled. Keith couldn’t imagine he looked much better.

“Besides, it’s not any worse than what I’m used to,” Keith said, not very helpfully. “I’m sorry too.”

Lance smiled at him, genuinely, and Keith stopped breathing for a second. He tugged at the edge of the bandage on his wrist to occupy his hands, rather than planting them on Lance’s shoulders like he wanted to. Keith smiled back.

“I’m going to go wash my face, I feel gross,” Lance said, and Keith nodded, stepping backwards. Lance went to the bathroom, leaving the door half-open. The tap began to run.

“Lance? Not-Keith?” Hunk called, rapping his hand on their front door.

Keith opened it, tugging inside Hunk by his sleeve. “You know my name is still Keith, right?”

“I can’t call you guys the same thing, else it’s like nothing has changed,” Hunk said, one hand on his hip and the other holding his portable. It had a bright yellow cover. “Where’s Lance and Shiro? We need to go.”

“Shiro left five or so minutes ago. Lance is in the bathroom.” Keith inclined towards the door. “Why?”

“Is that Hunk?” Lance asked, poking his head out from the bathroom. He was scrubbing with his face with a towel.

“You better be glad it is.” Hunk marched right over to Lance and snatched the towel out of his hands. “We gotta go. Katie’s waiting at the docks for us.” Hunk held onto Keith’s arm. “We gotta find Shiro, too. Can one of you message him while we walk? He might already be there. Either way, I want to be safe.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, the docks? Why are we going to the docks?” Lance scrambled out of Hunk’s grasp and plucked his bag and portable from the floor and bed.

“Katie and I ran into a doctor an hour or so ago while on the way here.” Hunk’s eyebrows furrowed. “I saw the name on the file he was holding—Keith’s name. She stopped him and said she was Matt’s brother, and that he sent her to receive any updates. No one informed you guys that Keith’s psych evaluation was scheduled for today?”

“Uh, no?” Lance stopped. “I kind of forgot that was happening at all.”

“Yeah, we all did. It’s not like they’ve been exactly helpful in the past two weeks. When the guy began to walk away, she kind of, er, tripped him, and I looked at the file while handing it back to him, and it said some, uh, stuff about Keith that didn’t seem very nice—”

“Fuck,” Keith swore.

“—Long story short, we kind of knocked him out together and now the Garrison are chasing our asses.”

“How the hell did you get from tripping him to knocking him out?!” Lance yelled.

“I said ‘long story short’ because it’s a long story! Now, we need to get going before we’re the ones being knocked out!”

“Hold up, are you saying we’re going to just—leave? For how long?”

“From what I’ve experienced, the Garrison doesn’t take kindly to people acting out,” Keith said.

Lance instantly began running around the room, shoving things into his bag and gathering precious items in his arms. Hunk bounced on his heels, glancing periodically out the door.

“Hold on, Katie reminded me to do this.” Hunk snapped the bracelet on Keith’s wrist off. It stung, the sensors that had been steeled into his skin being tugged out.

“Thanks,” Keith said. It was nice to have it off. He didn’t like the weight on his wrist any more than he liked having the fur on his other wrist.

“Can you please hold some of this?” Lance asked, dumping an armful of objects on Keith.

“Lance,” Hunk said, biting his nails. “I really am being serious about some Garrison guys chasing us down the hallway. We need to leave.”

“Give me a second—okay, got it!” Lance zipped up his bag. “Are you guys sure this is safer than staying?”

Keith stuffed as many of the items Lance had given him into his bag. He was getting some serious deja vu, but in a good way.

Nothing bad ever came out of leaving the Garrison.

“We can talk about that later—Ah!” Hunk screamed loudly when someone suddenly turned the corner. Keith’s brain didn’t recognize it as someone he knew, and his first thought was to punch the guy in the face.

So he did.

The man fell to the ground, revealing the Academy logo on the back of his jacket. Lance squeaked, stumbling back, hands in the air.

“Okay. Right. Some guy just tried to break into our room. The Garrison has gone mad. Let’s go!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha, did i say the spin-off would be up at 2.5k kudos? that was assuming i wouldn't be lazy. guess who was lazy? (me) i swear it'll be up soon... eventually. lol.
> 
> thank you everyone for reading! i cannot believe how close this fic is to 1k comments. holy shit. thank you so so much!! ;__;
> 
> talk to me on [tumblr](http://koizumi.tumblr.com) and [twitter](http://twitter.com/tsukaleoluvr69)!


	22. Chapter 22

“Damn it, why are the docks so far?!” Lance asked, holding his bag tightly to his side to prevent his things from spilling out.

Hunk looked around frantically, halting before every corner that they turned. They’d passed only one Garrison employee so far, but the dorms weren’t very populated in the first place. Keith wasn’t looking forward to running into any more in the future. The guy that Keith had punched had been carrying a knife, and while it wasn’t nearly as sharp as the one Keith himself kept handy, it was more than enough to tell him that whatever was going on, it was serious.

And without knowing exactly what was going on, it wasn’t like they could do anything about it but run. Hunk didn’t seem to want to reveal what was happening, other than that they absolutely needed to get to the docks. If it had to do with Keith, then it had to be about the Galra, and any sentence containing both the words ‘Galra’ and ‘Garrison’ in them was more than unnerving.

The idea that the Garrison had knowledge of the Galra that surpassed Keith’s was worrying; the idea that the Garrison had knowledge pertaining his own connection to the Galra was terrifying. He didn’t have the other Keith’s memories to tell him what was going on, and the only clues he’d left behind had already been solved; the scratch marks, the cryptic messages in his diary, and the reason why he’d crashed the flight. Those things had helped to explain why he’d ended up here. They didn’t explain how.

“Shhh,” Hunk hissed, pressing his palm to cover Lance’s mouth.

“Mmmf,” Lance said helpfully.

They stopped in front of the large steel doors that lead to the schooling area. It was impossible to get to the docks without going through a winding array of hallways, each branching off into another dozen classrooms or training rooms, unless they went outside, which would undoubtedly get them caught. He didn’t like being exposed and out in the open air.

“What’s the quickest way there?” Keith said, keeping his voice quiet. He pulled out his portable, shaking his wrist as the motion irritated the skin where his medical bracelet had been. Whatever the bracelet had pricked him with, it was causing his wrist to swell up. At least it wasn’t the one that had the fur on it.

He opened his portable, expecting to see a message from Pidge or Shiro. Instead, he was met with the default background; a calming picture of the ocean that did nothing to ease his worries.

“Pffft,” Lance said, still silenced by Hunk.

“Through the main hall. I’m not sure if we’ll be able to go through. If they have a bunch of people looking for us, it’d be safer to go through one of the other wings of the school,” Hunk replied. He watched as Keith put his portable back into his bag. “Did any of them message you?”

“No,” Keith sighed. “Let’s take the safer way.”

As much as beating up a bunch of sleazy Garrison soldiers enticed him, he was basically carrying around a baby and a half with Lance and Hunk with him. He didn’t doubt their combat skills, but they didn’t have any equivalents to their bayards in this world. If he was alone, he would have gladly gone down the main hallway by himself.

“Right,” Hunk nodded and released Lance.

“That was unnecessary,” Lance grumbled. Hunk opened the door with exact precision, only leaving enough room for them to slip through in order to minimize the amount of noise they made.

The school, like the dorms, wasn’t usually patrolled by hordes of Garrison soldiers. A few were scattered here and there in front of the most important classrooms, but there was no need for a lot of soldiers when hundreds of military-trained students were roaming around at all times of the day.

So, seeing a group of soldiers standing less than ten feet away from the doorway was pretty alarming.

Hunk squeaked and this time it was Lance who shoved his hand over Hunk’s face. Keith breathed in sharply as one of the soldiers turned, narrowly missing them in his field of view. He instantly recognized the pistols they were holding; they were the same ones that the Garrison had used to chase them back when Keith had gone to save Shiro in his world. They were puny and generally ineffective against anyone with the slightest bit of armor. Unfortunately, Keith had zero armor, and a single shot would incapacitate any of them.

“Here,” Keith whispered, tugging on Lance’s sleeve, who tugged Hunk along with him. They practically crawled their way to the nearest exit that wasn’t the one they had just come from. Lance kept nudging him in the thigh, urging him to hurry up.

When they shut the door behind them, Lance let out a loud cry of frustration. “Is this really happening? In real life?”

“The Garrison turning out to be assholes isn’t nearly as concerning as your boyfriend travelling between universes,” Keith snapped. He squinted through the crack in the door. It didn’t look like the soldiers had heard them, however, not that he knew they really were dispersing to look for them, travelling to the docks became even more dangerous. “Is there really no other way we can take besides going outside?”

Hunk unravelled Lance’s clingy hands from his waist and glanced around the hallway. If Keith remembered correctly, this wing of the school focused primarily on math-based subjects. The one part of Garrison training that he had failed miserably; the only reason why he hadn’t been demoted was because his flying skills were apparently too good to kick out. At the time. He got kicked out later for different reasons other than his bad math skills.

There were no math classes running in the evening, and so it was scarily empty. If a pin dropped, Keith was sure he’d be able to hear it.

“We could go through the basement? And round upwards towards the docks. I’ve never been down there. I just know it goes there from what Pidge has told me.” Hunk chewed on his thumb, looking around. “Those guys had guns. The guy we saw before didn’t have a gun!”

Lance huffed, miffed over Keith’s comment, and took a step back. “Are they really trying to kill us? I definitely didn’t do anything to deserve this.”

“The basement it is,” Keith said, ignoring both of their worries. They didn’t have time to complain about how unfair life was; Keith had already had that same conversation over a thousand times in his own head. Having it another time when they were supposed to be on the move was useless. “Do you know where the nearest entrance to the basement is?”

“I think so,” Hunk said, lowering his hand and pointing to the northern side of the hallway. “There’s an entrance at the topmost side of each wing, so there should be one over here.”

Keith zipped up his bag and started to walk towards where Hunk had pointed, taking great care in not letting his shoes squeak against the tiled floor. His legs didn’t hurt anymore, which made it easier to keep his movements deliberate and slow.

Hunk and Lance crept behind him; every so often, Lance released a sharp noise that made Keith jump until he realized it was just Lance freaking out. At least he was trying to stay quiet. Keith appreciated him not running around like a headless chicken.

He knew should be less strict on him. Lance had exhibited in his own world that he was very capable of being level-headed when the situation came for it. However, it was hard for his brain to differentiate Lance here and his Lance while also noting their similarities. He didn’t have enough brain power to do both at the same time.

“Is this it?” Keith stopped in front of another steel door at the end of the hallway. He grabbed the handle and tried to open it, but it was shut tight. They’d passed by a dozen classrooms without seeing anyone else, and no soldiers had crashed through the door from the main hallway. It appeared that they were in the clear for now until the Garrison stormed the other wings of the school to look for them.

“Yeah.” Keith stepped aside so Hunk could look at the lock on the door. “Do you have a bobby pin or something?” Hunk asked.

“You really think a bobby pin would work?”

Hunk shrugged and squatted down in front of the door, looking into the keyhole. “Maybe,” he said, pursing his lips. “Or anything sharp and thin.”

Keith ran his fingers down the bag that sat at his hip beside his dagger. “I have a knife,” he said. He loathed letting other people touch it, but if he was going to let anyone do it, Hunk wasn’t the worst option.

“That’d be great.”

Keith unwrapped the dagger and passed it to him, keeping his eye zoned in on Hunk’s grip. Other than his jacket, his dagger was one of the only other things that was the exact same in this world as in his own, right down to the exact same wrapping on the hilt. He wasn’t going to let it out of his sight, no matter how easily replaceable it was as a weapon.

Hunk shoved the tip of the dagger into the lock and licked his lips, bracing his other hand on the frame of the door.

“Keith, check your portable again,” Lance said, playing with his hands in front of his chest as they waited for Hunk to crack the lock.

Keith took it out, already knowing there wouldn’t be anything. “I haven’t gotten any messages. We’re supposed to meet at the docks though, right? She would have gone to find Shiro and her brother before going to the exit.”

“Yeah, but isn’t it weird that none of us have received any messages from them?” Lance gripped his arm tightly, furling and unfurling his fingers in concentration.

“They’re probably trying to find a way to the docks just like we are.” Keith took a deep breath. He couldn’t let Lance’s nervousness get to him, or it was going to make him even more nervous as well, and he was the best one for getting them out of this unscathed.

“Maybe,” Lance mumbled, unconvinced. “Shiro only left a few minutes before Hunk came. He couldn’t have gone too far…”

Hunk ripped Keith’s dagger out from the lock, grinning widely. “Got it,” he said, and opened the door. “Here you go.” He passed the dagger back to Keith and he sheathed it back on his side, happy to have it back in its rightful place, despite it only having been gone for a minute or two.

“Thanks,” Keith said, stepping through the door.

He’d known there was a whole area underneath the main Garrison building that was dubbed as the basement, but he’d never been to it in his world. Shiro had been down there a few times after he’d been promoted to his highest ranking. According to Shiro, it had been full of laboratories and rare research specimens that were too valuable to keep in the ground-floor laboratories.

“It’s so dark,” Lance whispered. “Is there a light switch here?”

Keith took a moment to let his eyes adjust to the darkness of the stairway. “I can see pretty well,” he said, chest twisting uncomfortably at just how quickly the view in front of him brightened. “Just follow me.”

Lance audibly swallowed. “Right. I forgot about, uh, nevermind.”

Keith suppressed another loud sigh and followed the stairs until he reached the end. He couldn’t see as well as he would’ve been able to had there been actual light, but he could make out the doors that sat on either end of the hallway. There were tables and benches littered a few feet away from each other. It looked exactly like the wings of the school, only dimmer and even more empty.

“There’s so many doors,” Keith frowned. “Which way do we go?”

“Uh, the docks are on the direct opposite end of the school, so if we head back the way we came but underground and then go through the main hallway, we should get there. I think?” Hunk grabbed at the air until he caught the back of Keith’s jacket. “I can’t see anything.”

“Alright,” Keith said. He guided Lance’s shaking hand to the other side of his jacket. He’d rather they both hold onto him then get lost. “Then we should be able to go straight and get back.”

In the darkness, he felt eerily more comfortable than he did when they were in the actual school. This area wasn’t used often, that much was evident from the dust that had gathered on the cracks in the ground and the lack of lighting. Unless they specifically checked to see that the door in the math wing had been broken, they should be able to pass through without anyone noticing.

He kept his pace quick, making sure that both Hunk and Lance were keeping up behind him by their grip on his jacket.

“Wait,” Lance said, letting go. Keith pinched his nose and stopped as well. “Wait, guys…”

“Eh? Where did you go?” Hunk asked, his other hand grasping at the air to try and find Lance, who had walked a few step backwards, halting in front of one of the open doors. “Lance?”

“What?” Keith griped.

“Come over here,” Lance hissed, voice hiking in tone; the standard procedure for when something was stressing him out. Keith frowned, his back tightening, and went over.

“Holy fuck,” Hunk said beside him.

Keith’s eyes darted around the room that opened up before them. There were ridges on the ceiling where walls had been knocked down to form such a large area. The room glowed blue, brightening the room, so much that Keith’s eyes stung.

He brushed past Lance and hurried into the room, going to the closest table that was glowing. There was a strip of metal laid over some kind of weight, with a pile of paperwork sitting beside it describing the properties. He picked it up in his hands and was flooded with a warm, comforting feeling that spread from his head to toes, leaving his fingers tingling.

“Is that—it’s glowing,” Lance said, looking over his shoulder.

“It’s Blue,” Keith murmured, running his fingers over every edge. He looked frantically around the room, but there was nothing else that shone blue. “It’s a piece of her.”

“Blue? Like, one of those lion things?” Hunk asked. He went to one of the other tables, squinting down at the items. “It looks like they’re using this place to build tech.”

Keith hugged the piece to his chest, breathing in sharply, as if she had a scent. Pressing it to his heart made it beat faster in delight, almost out of relief, though this body had never known any of the lion’s touch before.

“Why do they—that means they found it before we did the other day—Can I—” Lance started multiple sentences at once, his brain working into overdrive to try and get them all out.

Keith understood enough to know what he was asking and passed the piece off to Lance. Lance gasped when the piece fell into his hands and Keith turned away to look at one of the other tables.

He wasn’t jealous; he was tentatively overjoyed, in fact, since this was proof that Blue existed, and he was glad to find any lion. But it was difficult to see Lance so happy after everything that had happened to Keith. He recalled the feeling he had when he’d met Red for the first time, the crushing frustration, and then the overwhelming feeling of fullness that had come when she had swallowed him, saving him. He knew how Lance felt when they’d gone to the cave initially, and he knew how amazed he was to feel the power of his lion. He wanted to relive those moments as well, however, it was impossible. Red was presumably hundreds of thousands of light years away, if their locations were the same in this world.

“Where’s the rest of it?” Hunk questioned.

“I don’t know. The lions are really big.” Keith stroked his chin with his palm. “If the Garrison has her, then she’s not here.”

“But this is a good thing, yeah?” Lance said, holding the piece of Blue under his arm.

“The Garrison having a super weapon isn’t a good thing,” Hunk said.

“It’s good that we know they have it. And—” Keith searched through his brain to find what he wanted to say. The problem was he didn’t know what he wanted to say—he wasn’t sure what he was feeling at all. “It’s good that we have proof, for the others.”

Lance blinked. “Yeah,” he mumbled. “I guess so.” Keith could feel Lance’s guilty gaze on his back. He didn’t want Lance to feel guilty, though. He was tired of them fighting. Now that Lance understood he was telling the truth, or he understood that it was real, he didn’t care. He didn’t want to have to deal with Lance wanting to make it up to him; he didn’t need that. All he needed was their cooperation.

“Whoa,” Hunk gasped, flipping through a book on the table. “This is stuff is super advanced. I’ve never seen anything like it, not even in the training rooms.”

“We can’t stick around,” Keith said. “Blue isn’t here. We’re close to the docks.”

“Wait, let me grab this.” Hunk started piling things into his bag and Keith wondered what it was with these people and filling their space with relatively useless items.

“If this is just one piece, then—did they dismantle it?” Lance tore away from Keith’s back to the piece of Blue again.

“I don’t think they can be dismantled,” Keith said.

“It looks like they’re researching the technology involved.” Hunk dragged his hands along the other tables, grabbing things hastily.

Keith rubbed his forehead, going towards the door to wait for them. He prayed that the others were waiting for them and they could leave as soon as possible. If they were going to escape the Garrison, they couldn’t dwell in it. There was no leeway for second guessing.

“Okay, I’m good,” Hunk said, jogging over. Lance followed, still clutching the piece of Blue. He kept his face pensively stoic. Keith had the urge to hug him, but this wasn’t exactly the place for that. Their hugs lately always resulted in either a fight or a long-winded conversation.

Just as Keith rounded the corner, he heard something strange. Something that sounded like another person.

He swung his arm out, stopping Hunk and Lance from following. Footsteps weren’t what he wanted to hear when they were making an escape from an organization.

“There’s someone here,” Keith whispered.

He heard a door open, and then someone talking.

“The target is down here. The lock was broken on the upper level,” the faceless figure said. There was a beep, and then he continued. “Converge onto the lower level. Have the other runaways been caught?”

After a moment, a buzz came through. “Yes, sir.”

“Excellent. Keep me updated on the remaining missing person.”

“Who is it?” Hunk asked, trying to grapple past Keith to see, but Keith kept him at bay.

“Wait, I’ll check,” he said. “Take this.” He took off his bag and slung it into Hunk’s arms. It would only weigh him down if he was forced to fight.

He took out his dagger preemptively, hiding it below his back on his thigh. He took a single step forward, the floor staying silent under his feet, and looked out.

It took a colossal amount of effort to let his dagger slip out from his fingers. Right after he went forward, he stepped back again, crowding Hunk and Lance back into the room.

“What?” Lance said, voice hushed. “Who is it?”

Keith pressed his hand to his chest, trying to steady his breathing. Hunk and Lance didn’t have weapons; he’d already been over this. He was the only one who could fight properly between them.

Years of memories of fighting as a team, however, came to his mind. He wasn’t used to fighting alone. He hadn’t done so in what felt like ages, not without the looming protection of the others following behind them.

But he had to. They were cornered. He stood back up, ignored Lance, and went back out into the hallway.

It’d been less than a month since he’d been transported from his world, but he was used to seeing the Galra every other few days, either while fighting, or through research Allura and Coran had collected.

He’d forgotten how tall they were and how they oozed evilness, from the way their shoulders stood stiff and their eyes slitted. Keith wasn’t tall, and he wasn’t that short. Compared to the Galra, however, he was dwarfed. He had to tilt his head upwards to look at it, and instinctively, he scowled, meeting its gaze.

The Galra lifted its hand and turned on the device on its wrist, speaking into it without looking away from Keith. He stood his ground, digging his heels into the floor to give himself a head start on the fight that was about to happen. Any momentum was helpful.

“I found the target,” the Galra said smoothly. “Ignore my previous order. Converge onto my location.”

The Galra lowered his hand and his whole arm ignited. It reminded Keith of Shiro’s arm. It crackled with energy, but it was only the armor over his furred body, not the Galra’s arm itself.

“Screw this, I—Keith?!” He heard Lance step out from the room. “What the—”

The Galra’s head snapped towards Lance and Keith took the opportunity to lunge towards him, the tip of his dagger pointed directly outwards. The Galra cringed and took a step back, letting Keith slip underneath his arm. The energy radiating from his armor was warm, burning the area above Keith’s cheeks.

“I’ve heard that your fighting prowess matches any of our men,” the Galra said, stumbling backwards. “Show me.”

While Keith wasn’t one to normally waste his time talking during fights, he wanted the Galra to continue taunting him. Whatever information he could get out of them, he’d gladly take. With the Galra apparently having Blue, they would need all the help they could get. Maybe Hunk and Lance grabbing all of that random shit would be useful.

The Galra was swift, but not nearly as well-trained as many of the Galra Keith had faced. Even without his body in this world having the taut muscles he was used to, he easily dodged most of the Galra’s swings at him from purely predicting where he would try and strike Keith.

He brought his dagger to the Galra’s wrist, slicing through the lowermost part of the armor. It fizzled and a part of the arm shut down, including his fist. The top part still shone, however, it was a lot harder for the Galra to hit him with his shoulder compared to his hands.

“Easy,” Keith snorted, sliding out of the way of the Galra’s charge at him. It was so easy that he wanted to yell at Lance and Hunk for looking so surprised out of the corner of his eye. This didn’t warrant those kinds of looks.

“I see you have your own technology, courtesy of us,” the Galra sneered. “A half-breed will never be a match to anyone with pure blood.” He held out his other arm and the armor there expanded, spikes growing outwards from the inside, tickling with the same electricity as the glove that Keith had just torn off.

Keith swiped his arm over the sweat on his forehead and observed the thorns on the armor. Undoubtedly, a single press of any of them to his skin would give a shock that would prevent him from fighting. As long as he could get through to the Galra’s skin without being touched by his other arm or shoulder, he should be fine.

The Galra took a large step forward, bending over to charge at Keith again, this time with both arms outstretched and angled forwards. There was a wall behind him, so the only way he could go was sideways.

Lance choked as a row of spikes narrowly missed Keith’s cheeks, again, making his face colour. He hated when they used weapons that gave off heat; Keith had spent a year in the desert, he didn’t need an excess of warmth in his life after that. Spurred on, he used his advantage of being smaller to lower himself and impaled his dagger into the Galra’s leg while he faltered from hitting the wall, cutting right through his armor.

Seeing the same purple fur that had been on his wrist on the Galra made him sick to his stomach. He knew he wasn’t anything like them. Regardless of whether he was one, he would always be a better person, better in general, compared to any Galra in any universe. Having to bear any part of them, on his body in his blood, was offensive to everything he’d worked for.

Grinding his teeth together, he slashed at the Galra’s other leg angrily, just for good measure, right as the Galra attempted to drive the spikes on his armor into Keith’s head. It grazed his hair, and god, he felt the heat for real that time, but the Galra fell over before he could properly attack. There were two large gashes on either side of his legs, spewing blood out onto the floor.

Keith wiped his mouth, panting, and took a step back. Lance and Hunk were frozen by the doorway, both with their hands over the mouths.

“Come on,” Keith said, already running. They took a long stare at the Galra on the floor, who was talking furiously into the device on his wrist, before tailing him.

He threw open the door that lead to the main hallway, squeezing his eyes shut briefly as he ran. If the Galra really did have Blue, this universe was moving further and further away from his own, into territory that he didn’t know how to fix. He wasn’t the strategist of their team. He was the exact opposite; he was the one to run into the enemy and think after. He didn’t know how to lead.

“What the hell was that!” Lance yelled, ostensibly not caring to keep his voice down anymore.

“Was that an alien?!” Hunk said.

“Was that a Gal-rur?”

“Galra,” Keith corrected for the tenth time.

The main hallway mirrored the one in the school perfectly, like the other wing had, and the stairway to the docks was helpfully labelled with faded writing etched onto the steel. He kicked open the door and reached out, waiting for Hunk and Lance to grab onto him as they walked up the stairs.

When they got through the door, he slammed it shut, pressing his back to it to prevent it from being opened again. He groaned and shut his eyes, the weight on his chest not having been relieved at all.

“Oh, thank god, you guys are here,” Pidge said. “Wait, where’s Shiro and Matt?”

“Huh?” Hunk frowned. “We thought they were with you!”

“I couldn’t find them. I sent you all a message. Some Garrison goon found me and chased me down, so I ran straight here.”

Keith dropped his head. Now that they were in a relatively safe area, nauseousness was beginning to take hold of him from having to see a member of the Galra with his own two eyes. And from being attacked; but he wouldn’t have minded it if it was simply a random Garrison soldier who had found them.

“We need to get the hell out of here,” Lance said. “The Galra are here.”

Pidge ran a hand through her hair. “Yeah,” she said.

Keith snapped straighter, letting go of the door. “You _knew_?”

Pidge looked at Hunk, then at Keith. “I checked the file that the guy we saw earlier had dropped, and it mentioned the word ‘Galra’ specifically, which meant that the Garrison had to know about them by name somehow. But we can’t—we have to go back for Shiro and Matt. I thought they were with you,” she repeated.

“I am not going back in there,” Lance snorted. “No fucking way. We all checked our messages, there was nothing. We can’t just go back.”

“Do you think there’s a lot of them? We barely managed to escape one, and they called for reinforcements,” Hunk said.

“We can’t leave them here! This isn’t only about the Garrison anymore.”

“These are aliens, Pidge! If it’s not only about the Garrison anymore, it’s about how these guys have some freaky weapons with them—Look!” He shoved the piece of Blue in her face. “They have the blue lion!”

“The what?” Pidge said, eyebrows screwing together. “The—Oh. Well, they can’t use that to kill us, right?”

“Does it matter?! They can kill our asses within seconds if they wanted to, with or without it! And they do want to kill us, I might add,” Lance said, slotting the piece back underneath his arm.

Keith grazed past them, looking at the ships. They were all more advanced than Lance’s training ship was, and far more than Keith’s trusty motorcycle. If Keith was able to pilot, any of them would easily outpace a Garrison ship, save if they were using Galra technology.

“We need to leave,” Keith affirmed, backing up Lance’s earlier statement. “The Galra are on their way to us right now. We can’t stay here.”

“You—You can’t be serious. You of all people.” Pidge marched right up to him and jabbed a finger to his chest. “This is your fault and you just want to leave?”

He overlooked her and jumped to one of the higher quality ships that was docked, standing in front of the door and looking inside through the window. He couldn’t tell if these were personal or Garrison-owned ships, but this one looked to be in relatively good shape.

“This one is fine,” Keith said. He spun his dagger and cut off the lock, opening the door.

“This is not—I am not leaving,” Pidge said, standing her ground. “At least, not until we grab Shiro and Matt. We can’t just leave them behind.”

“They’ve survived it before,” Keith said. He didn’t have the patience or willpower to talk her out of this again. Out of all of them, he was the one that was sacrificing the most for this. If only she knew how painful the time in his life had been when he didn’t have Shiro. He never, ever wanted to relive it, but he also didn’t want to die because of their stupid decisions. “Get inside.”

No one moved. Lance’s foot twitched.

“We don’t have time for this,” Keith insisted. He kept his eyes trained on the other door, the one that was directly connected to the school’s hallway. “I don’t know how the Garrison and Galra are connected, but we’re not going to be of any use to Shiro or Matt if we’re dead. Which we will be if we don’t leave. I can’t fend them all off forever.”

“Didn’t you lose Shiro in your own ‘world’? How can you talk about leaving them behind again?” Pidge said.

“Katie…” Hunk muttered cautiously.

“No! No—how can you talk about leaving them to die? We have to at least look for them! It’s not my fault you didn’t check your damn messages!”

“You would be dead if I had. I delayed the Galra from coming here. Now get inside, or—”

“They’re in here!” Someone called from behind the door. There was a flash from the slit underneath it. “The door is locked!”

Hunk took a step towards the ship, then ran, climbing in. “We’ll come back for them!”

Keith held open the door as Lance joined him. Pidge stood at the edge of the dock, looking between the door and the ship Keith had opened. She looked beyond angry; he could tell she was furious, and this wasn’t going to be let go easily.

Wordlessly, she climbed in as well, and Keith shut the door of the ship. He elbowed past them to sit in the driver’s seat, flipping on the power and taking off before it even fully booted up.

“We can circle around the building to see if they’re waiting outside,” Hunk suggested.

“Won’t that give them time to follow us?” Lance said. “We should leave the area.”

“No, we should land somewhere and come back,” Pidge grumbled. “This is absurd.”

“They’ll be fine,” Keith promised, mostly for his own peace of mind. He flew out of the Garrison, bringing down the camera of the rear view of the ship. Nothing looked out of the norm from the outside. If he hadn’t seen the Galra with his own two eyes, he wouldn’t have thought for a moment that anything unusual or dangerous was happening.

“How do you know that? You aren’t our friend, you don’t even care about us. We can’t—God,” Pidge stepped back once the ship was steady in the air. “After we land, I’m going back. Things will have calmed down by then. I can sneak in and find them.”

Keith set the ship to the coordinates of his shack and then whipped around, releasing the controls. “I don’t care about you guys? If I didn’t care, I would have left—weeks ago. Nothing has kept me here except the fact that I know you guys care about me—Keith—and I’m respecting that by not ditching you solely to find a way out of this! If I didn’t care, I wouldn’t have—”

“You care about Lance, maybe, but not us. The Keith I know wouldn’t leave behind his best friend, and for the second time.”

Keith grabbed onto the edge of the controls just to control his anger. Lance and Hunk were both stunned into silence, standing on either side of Keith’s seat.

“You don’t know the first thing about my feelings for any of you,” Keith hissed, each word coming out slow and painful. “So _shut up and let me fly_.”

“Fuck you,” Pidge muttered, heading to the back of the ship. She shut the door loudly behind her, causing the entire ship to rattle.

This is why he couldn’t imagine being in Shiro’s position as their leader, or even Allura. He was doing what was best for them, and Pidge was letting her stupid feelings cloud her logic. And she was supposed to be the most logical out of all of them. How were they supposed to take on a group of Galra and soldiers? Did she expect him to fight them all by himself?

They weren’t running away. He would never leave Shiro behind, not truly, but he was strong, and he could take care of himself and Matt. Perhaps not physically, but mentally enough that they would still be there when they came back.

“I’ll, uh, try and talk to her,” Hunk said, ever the blessed friend. His eyes were glassy.

Lance crashed his and Keith’s bags onto the floor and set down the piece of Blue near them before promptly banging his fist to the side of the ship.

“Stop,” Keith said. “You’re going to start swaying the ship.”

“I hate this,” Lance said.

“You’re the one who agreed to leave.”

“That doesn’t mean I have to enjoy it!” Lance slumped onto the floor, burying his face against his knees.

“They have a better chance of living if we’re not there. If they’re looking for me, they’re not going to expend resources on Shiro and Matt.”

Lance sniffled, and the tufts of hair that brushed his cheeks weren’t long enough to obscure his crying from Keith’s view.

“I hate this,” Lance whispered again.

Keith looked out into the horizon of the desert. “Trust me. I do too,” he said.

*****

“Here,” Pidge spat, throwing the file with Keith’s name on it onto the table. “Have fun.”

She stomped out of the room to join Hunk outside. It was dark out, and the storm that usually frequented the desert was gone, just like the day that Keith had rescued Shiro in his world. He’d spent a lot of days wading through the desert with dust in his eyes when he had lived here. The sky was clear today, though.

Lance sat down beside him and picked up the file. It looked like any other patient file from the medbay that Keith had seen.

After they had landed, Hunk and Lance had to separate him and Pidge. It was probably for the best, despite how much he wanted to prove her wrong.

No matter what she thought of him, he did care. He’d tried hard to prevent it, but they were so similar to his friends back home, right down to Pidge’s unrelenting passion for her family. He couldn’t fault her for something that he’d grown to love about her. He wasn’t going to ruin his chances of getting her help and trust because of his temper.

He bit into his knuckle and leaned against Lance, watching as he opened the file.

There were dozens of pictures of Keith clipped to each page, chronicling his recovery during his coma. In the first few photos, he was barely recognizable; his hair was burnt off and his skin was peeled. He barely looked human.

Lance flipped to the next page, which was marked as ‘Day 3’. His skin wasn’t as charred in these ones, and while he didn’t look healthy, he didn’t appear as close to death as the first pictures.

Lance went between the first two pages, frowning. “This is when they first let me in to see you,” Lance said, pointing to Day 3.

“It must be because the recovery was too quick. You would get suspicious,” Keith said, mouthing against Lance’s shoulder.

Lance dropped his hands. “How could they have kept this from us? How—” Lance sighed. “How did you keep it from me? And why?”

“Even without knowing who the Galra were, turning into an alien is…” Keith trailed off. “It’s scary.”

“I know it has to be, but I—I wouldn’t have left,” Lance said. “I wish I could have helped him.”

Keith took the file from him and flipped quickly through the rest of the pages. Pidge had thrown it down so harshly that there must be other things written in it that talked about Keith, more than simply that he had Galra blood.

He didn’t feel like looking through it. They had to wait until tomorrow to go back to the Garrison anyways. He needed to relax, though that wasn’t something that was easy for Keith to do.

“You are helping him. By helping me,” Keith said.

Lance pulled out the piece of Blue from his bag. Now that they were in the light, he recognized it as a panel from her claws by the way it sharpened at the corner. He didn’t know how they could have pulled it off. He hadn’t thought the lions could be destroyed, other than from the inside.

“When I touch it, I feel calmer. And at the same time, I feel infinitely more worried. It feels like someone is calling out to me.”

“That’s what it’s like to be inside one of them. Sometimes, Red talks to me. Not a lot. Not as much as Blue does to you.” Keith rested his hand over Lance’s, touching the piece of Blue between his fingers.

“I—If that’s true, then why haven’t I felt it before? Who knows how long the Garrison has had it for?”

“I don’t know,” Keith admitted. “It has to have something to do with the Galra. They—this never happened in my world. None of this. I don’t know.”

Lance opened his mouth to speak, stopping when he saw something over Keith.

“You’re hurt,” Lance said. He pushed Keith’s head down to look at his scalp. “Was it from that guy?”

“You mean the Galra? I think so. I didn’t notice. It doesn’t hurt.”

Lance’s fingers scraped through his hair and Keith melted onto Lance’s side, shutting his eyes and letting Lance stroke the area where he had been burnt.

“They look a lot scarier than I imagined,” Lance chuckled softly. “Nothing like you do.”

“I’d like to think I’m a nicer person than most of them are. And more attractive.”

“You are,” Lance confirmed. “I don’t have to know any of them to know that.”

He continued to run his fingers through Keith’s hair, winding it at the tips as if he was going to braid it before releasing, over and over. His cool fingers felt nice against the place where he had been burned, and the tug helped to ease his headache.

“They’re probably torturing Shiro right now,” Keith murmured, coaxed against Lance’s chest. “They don’t care about ethics.”

Lance’s hold on him tightened for a second, and then he went back to stroking Keith’s head. “You don’t know if they’re the same.”

“I think they’re worse,” Keith said. He pressed on the piece of Blue in between them. “The Galra never had their hands on Blue. The lions are incredibly powerful. I don’t want to know what they’ve been able to do up until now if they’ve been able to dismantle her.”

Lance set the piece of Blue on the table with the file and hugged him fully, dropping his hand from Keith’s hair to his back, running it down his back until it came to rest on his side.

“Lance…” Keith said.

“It’ll be fine, yeah?” Lance replied, dodging Keith’s unspoken question. “Pidge will come around. Sometimes her judgement gets clouded.”

“The same thing happened before. She wanted to leave to find her brother. It would have been a death sentence if she had,” Keith sighed.

Lance laid back down on the couch, still holding Keith. It wasn’t their bed, and there wasn’t any reason why they should be sitting together right now so closely.

“I only chose to leave because I know Shiro can handle himself. But we—we can’t. I’d never leave him behind knowing that he would die.” Keith settled down half-beside, half-on top of Lance. “I’d never willingly go through that again.”

Lance hummed. “You care a lot for him.”

“Don’t get jealous,” Keith joked.

Lance laughed as well, tilting his head back and closing his eyes as if he was going to fall asleep. “I’m more jealous of the other me who’s with my boyfriend right now. Supposedly.”

“I’m not a good enough replacement for you?”

“I’m just kidding,” Lance snickered. “I’m still trying to come to terms with the truth of that.”

It should’ve been awful to joke about something so serious. Shiro always told him, however, that in the worst of situations, laughing about it was an understandable reaction.

They stopped talking, with Lance going back to distractedly playing with Keith’s hair, his eyes shut. He wanted to sleep, to the point where if he was left alone in his former bed he’d most likely pass out within seconds, but he couldn’t, not with Shiro being undoubtedly being tortured or at least being sought after somewhere in the Garrison.

The Galra had called him a half-breed. That had to mean one of his parents had been a part of the Galra; why any human would want to bone with one of them, Keith couldn’t understand. It meant that he hadn’t been experimented on, though. The Galra blood that was in him was legitimate. And considering Keith’s history in this world seemed to match up to his own, he dreaded learning about his real heritage.

If all the Galra wanted was him, maybe he could devise a plan with the others to let them take him, and then break out with Shiro. It would take hefty coordination, however, and he had to delve into Pidge and Hunk’s brains once they calmed down to discover what they knew about the technology the Garrison and Galra were using. The most important thing they could do, besides save Shiro—which was indisputable and inevitable—was to find Blue.

If they could get to her, they could get to Allura, and that was all he needed to go home. She would know what to do. Out of everyone in the universe, she had the most knowledge about the Galra aside from the Galra themselves. The only issue he could see with that was she had no reason to trust him, being half-Galra.

And, to be fair, he wouldn’t trust himself either. He wasn’t sure if he would ever be able to come to terms with one of the others being of Galra blood. The Galra seemed to take racial relationships with each other extremely seriously. There was always the threat of the half-Galra paladin betraying them, just like they had done to Allura’s father. And while Keith knew that he himself would never turn on them, Allura didn’t know that.

“You’re thinking too hard,” Lance mumbled. “I can tell. Just rest, we’re not going to be leaving tonight anyways.”

“Relaxing isn’t an option,” Keith said, mostly in jest. There was an underlying element of truth to it.

Lance shushed him, pressing his finger to Keith’s lips. “You’ve done enough already.”

Keith couldn’t tell if that was Lance telling him to stop trying so hard, or a compliment about all the things he had done today, or neither.

“I’ll try,” Keith relented.

He was pretty sure the only reason why he ended up passing out was because of the gentle rhythm of Lance touching his scalp.

******

When he woke up, he was in the bed that he’d slept in for over a year. Lance was sitting beside him, a pillow propped up behind him as he flipped through a pile of papers. The piece of Blue shone on the table beside the bed.

“Sorry,” Lance said, setting them aside. “Did I wake you up?”

Keith blinked sleepily. Lance’s hair was ruffled like he’d just woken up, and the lights were off outside of the room. “What time is it?”

“Not time to wake up.” Lance patted his head. “Go back to sleep.”

Groggily, Keith laid his head back down on his pillow, curling his arm over Lance’s middle. “What are you looking at?” he asked, voice heavy.

“I’m reading over the files that Hunk grabbed from the lab. I don’t really understand most of it,” Lance laughed.

“You need to sleep too,” Keith insisted. “You can’t tell me to relax and then not do it yourself.”

“I will,” Lance reassured him. “Don’t worry.”

“I always worry.”

“That’s my line.” Lance smiled at him, and even through the haze of his tiredness, Keith felt an odd tingle at seeing it. “I’ll go back to sleep soon.”

“Okay,” Keith said. “I dreamt about Shiro.” He was babbling.

“Yeah?”

“I used to—do that a lot,” he continued, screwing his eyes closed, remembering the year of constant nightmares. “Dreaming about his death.”

“Well, he’s not going to die.” Lance turned off the light and slipped back next to him underneath the sheets.

“Okay,” Keith said again, too emotionally fatigued to say anything productive back.

“You’re cute when you’re sleepy,” Lance said. He let Keith cling to him like a stuffed animal and Keith was glad to soak up his warmth.

“You shouldn’t say that,” Keith protested, already on his way to falling back asleep.

“I know.” Lance turned his face away from Keith. “Sorry.”

“S’okay,” Keith repeated, and fell back asleep before he even knew it.

This time, he dreamt of a series of unrelated images of Lance. He’d take that over Shiro dying any day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow. i am awful. it took me over 2 weeks to update, so i'm super sorry about that, but these chapters just keep getting longer and longer so i hope that'll make up for the ridiculous wait! we should be back to regular updates this weekend, so the fic should be over by the end of this month! (i did do 1 minor productive thing, which was [this fic](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8236526)\--self-plug!)
> 
> thank you for all the comments and kudos!! ;___; i don't know how many times i can say thank you without it coming repetitive but... thank you! and please let me know what you think of this chapter, as usual!
> 
> talk to me on [tumblr](http://koizumi.tumblr.com) and [twitter](http://twitter.com/tsukaleoluvr69)!


	23. Chapter 23

After getting out of bed and arguing over who got to shower first, Keith and Lance stood in front of the mirror, getting ready while they waited for Hunk and Pidge to wake up. Which would be soon, since Keith was going to wake them up if they didn’t get up themselves within the next twenty minutes. Every minute mattered when it had to do with the Galra. Sleep was important—and so was Shiro’s livelihood.

“You have fur on the top of your head,” Lance said, going on his toes to look over Keith’s scalp. He brushed his fingers over the top of Keith’s head, rubbing them over the spot where he had been burned yesterday. “There’s no wound from the burn anymore.”

“What?” Keith frowned and jerked away from Lance’s touch, ducking his head down to look at his scalp in the mirror. Slightly lopsided from the top of his head was the area that had been red yesterday; now it was covered in a deep purple fur, light, fluffy hairs having grown in overnight. He pushed his thumb through them, trying to feel the wound that was supposed to be there, but the skin was soft and as good as new. “What the fuck?”

“I didn’t notice until you bent over just now. It wasn’t there this morning.” Lance inched in behind him and went on his toes to look at the top of Keith’s head. Keith forced his nails into the skin and tried to tug it out, and after having no luck, Lance placed his hand over Keith’s and pulled it away.

“It’s coarser,” Keith grumbled. “Did you bring a razor?”

Lance gasped loudly, eyes going comically wide. “You can’t shave an area that’s still recovering! It could break the skin and make you bleed again.” Keith would’ve appreciated Lance’s innocence on the topic more if they weren’t in a life-or-death time travelling situation.

“I’m not walking around with fur on my head. What if it keeps growing?” Keith pointed out. He stepped closer to the mirror and pulled back his hair, squinting at the dark fur.

“Who cares? You aren’t one of them, even if you’re covered in fur,” Lance said sharply, respecting his personal space, drifting behind him and not moving any closer. Keith didn’t care about Lance being close to him so much as Lance ignoring his question.

“I care,” Keith protested. “Did you bring one or not?”

“I know, but…” Lance couldn’t let things go. “Why does it matter if it shows or not? You’ve already proved you aren’t one of them.” Keith turned and leaned against the sink, pressing his thumbs to his eyes and wiping away the sleep. “Don’t put so much pressure on yourself by overthinking things.”

“As opposed to not thinking at all? If we’re going to get Shiro out unscathed, we’ll need to overthink it. We don’t have lions to back us up.” Lance leaned one arm against the wall, looking down at Keith’s slumped form.

“We could try and find it,” Lance said.

The slow progress of Lance believing him was going a lot faster now. Along with not being able to let things go, Lance, like Keith himself, was prone to jumping to rash conclusions. And without Shiro, there was no one to reign them in. Hunk and Pidge couldn’t fulfil that same role. “What made you change your mind?”

“I—” Lance bit his lip. “I don’t know. It has to be out there somewhere if I can still feel it, so that means there’s a chance.”

“Her. Not it,” Keith corrected. He began to sift through the dusty cabinets underneath the sink. Lance must have shoved all of the things he’d taken from their room at the Garrison into the cabinets overnight. It was filled to the brim with toiletries and other, non-necessary items like photo albums.

Lance kneeled down beside him, making sure he didn’t touch or break anything. “Okay, she! She would help us, right? If we could find her?”

Keith found a razor tucked inside of a fuzzy black pouch. It was the same razor Lance had been using since he’d woken up, blue and slightly rusted. He stood up and bent over the sink, wetting the razor under the tap.

“Our priority is Shiro,” he said firmly.

“She’ll help us get Shiro safely,” Lance replied. He plucked the razor out from Keith’s hands, hovering behind him. “Let me do it.”

Lance ran the razor slowly across Keith’s scalp, the blade making quick work of the fur. Lance pooled it onto his palm and then dumped it into the sink.

“If we had another lion, maybe. We don’t know where she is. If she’s even on Earth at all. We can’t barge in there expecting to find her.”

Lance sighed loudly, pressing his chest to Keith’s back and burying his face into Keith’s messy hair. He lowered the razor onto the sink and muttered something against his back. Lance was a ball of warmth behind him, even hotter than he was when they were underneath their thick bedsheets.

“Lance,” Keith warned; again, not for the proximity, but for the places that Lance’s mind was undoubtedly jumping to, worrying over things that neither of them could control.

“We could make a plan where—” Lance said softly.

“Where what?” A voice asked. Lance jumped away from Keith, his whole body lifting with surprise. Keith sucked in a deep breath, chest tightening. He knew how it looked when they stood so closely, and he didn’t want to upset Pidge even more when she was already angry at him.

The reason why he couldn’t simply stop and shove Lance away every time he moved closer was because now, he was leaning back into his hugs. No matter how much his mind told him he was being stupid, his body—or heart—wouldn’t listen.

“Er,” Lance said, blinking a few times. He looked rapidly between Keith and Pidge, not wanting to escalate the tension that had been stagnant between them since last night.

“How are you?” Keith tucked the razor back into the pouch. Just because she knew didn’t mean he wanted to show the fact he was a Galra off. Like, hey, just a reminder, I’m a part of the race that most likely kidnapped your brother.

He had been thinking constantly about how they weren’t taking him as seriously as they would have in his own universe because they didn’t have the experiences to back up their fear. Pidge hadn’t seen the Galra with her own two eyes, but the knowledge that they had her brother should be enough to make her apprehensive.

“I’ll be fine when we get Shiro back,” Pidge said, gaze flickering in between them, verging on suspicious. “And Matt. Don’t forget him.”

“I wasn’t forgetting him,” Keith bit out.

“Alright, alright, you two,” Lance said in a tone that begged them not to fight, raising his hands and slipping in between them. Keith somewhat peeved that Lance thought he had that short of a reign over his own temper. He was capable of holding civil conversations. Most of the time.

Pidge rubbed her neck. Whatever it was about Keith that was bothering her, it didn’t annoy her enough to bring it up further. “Did either of you read over the documents that Hunk grabbed from the lab?”

“I did,” Lance said.

Keith looked at Lance out of the corner of his eyes. It looked much more similar to a glare than he intended it to. “You didn’t mention that to me.”

“I was reading them when you woke up earlier!” Lance’s arm flailed. “And we just woke up.”

Keith’s nose crinkled momentarily and he crossed his arms, sitting against the wall and silently reprimanding Lance. Lance’s concern for his feelings wasn’t necessary. Between the two of them, Keith was definitely not the one who was going to be offended by anything in those documents.

“I’ll brush you up on what they say. But,” Pidge poked her finger in his direction. “You have to promise me you won’t leave Shiro behind too. I know you care about Shiro. I do too. I’m sorry that I said you didn’t, but—but you can’t leave him behind. He can help you too. He’s just as smart as me.”

Keith bristled, and if he really was covered in fur, it would be sticking every way up right now.  
“I wouldn’t leave anyone to die. Ever. The only reason why we had to leave last night is because it would’ve resulted in our deaths too.”

She stood up taller, trying to match his height, looking just as fierce as Keith himself felt. “Okay,” she said finally. “I trust you. I’m going to wake Hunk up and then we can figure out what we’re going to do.”

Casting one last glance between them, she slipped out of the bathroom, shutting the door behind her. Lance groaned loudly, pressure easing off his shoulders, and slumped against Keith. It was the same action Keith imagined the Lance in his world would do to Pidge once Keith left. He’d never put much thought into it, but the fact that Keith was this Lance’s most important person must mean that he wasn’t as close to Pidge and Hunk.

That was weird. That was really weird. He wondered if it was that Lance had never gotten to the point where they were all inseparable, or if Keith had wedged himself in between Lance and the other two when they’d started dating. If that was the case, it was no wonder Lance was afraid of their opinion of him. He’d hate someone too if they got in between his and Shiro’s friendship, speaking of best friends.

With them inevitably about to leave Earth once they got Shiro (and Matt), he didn’t know where to start when it came to going home anymore. And if he wasn’t going to be going home, maybe he did need to start fixing all the things the other Keith had fucked up.

Lance grazed his hand over the spot on Keith’s head that he had shaved. There were still baby hairs there, rooted deep into his skin that couldn’t be tugged out.

“Hunk must’ve talked some sense into her,” Lance said.

“Give her some credit,” Keith said. “Our best chances are to work together, not to run off one by one. She knows that.”

“Yeah. And to get Blue,” Lance suggested.

“Trust me, Lance. I’d love to find her. I’d give up pretty much anything just to lie inside of her, if she’d let me.” He shivered. The lions were already somewhat temperamental, even the more open ones like Blue and Yellow. If they could sense how many stupid mistakes he’d made, they might not let him in. Regardless of whether they would let him pilot, he longed to bask in that feeling of home, to curl up in the seat and breathe in the smell of metal and fire. Or ice, in Blue’s case.

Lance muttered quietly, tucking his face away from Keith’s.

“... Did touching that piece bother you that much?” Keith asked.

“It didn’t bother me, only... you must know how it feels.”

Keith did. Very well. When he’d been separated from Red after they’d crashed onto a planet, thousands of light years away from any of the other paladins, it’d been agony to hear her pained calls to him. Especially when he didn’t know whether he would be able to survive.

“I do. It hurts,” Keith admitted.

“Mhm,” Lance hummed lowly, not melodic at all. “I wouldn’t have made fun of you all those times if I’d known.”

Keith patted Lance’s warm cheek; it was Keith’s way of trying to soothe him without breaking past the point that would make Lance remember the other Keith, which would, in turn, cause him to cry. “You weren’t making fun of me.”

Lance had been a little closed-minded, if not rude at times, but Keith had never thought Lance was intentionally trying to annoy him. It wasn’t playful banter or annoying each other for the sake of it, like Keith was used to. It was Lance’s inability to comprehend what Keith was going through. It would’ve been worse if it had just been Lance making fun of him, since that would’ve meant he understood Keith’s situation and didn’t take it seriously. That wasn’t what had happened, and Keith wasn’t about to let him jump to conclusions about what Keith himself thought.

“I kind of was,” Lance said, laughing bitterly.

“You’re so cynical right now. That’s supposed to be my job.” Keith pinched his cheek, smiling wryly to try and bring a bit more life to Lance’s eyes. “It was frustrating. Really, really frustrating. But you were never making fun of me. You wouldn’t do that.”

Lance blinked up at him. His pupils, usually small and almost bead-like, were huge and open. Keith felt like he could stare right into Lance’s soul then. The longer Keith was in this world, the more Lance was beginning to open up, like Keith really was the Keith that Lance wanted.

“You’re so—” Lance covered his mouth with his hand and laughed, wiggling out of Keith’s grip. “You’re so sappy.”

Keith let Lance move away and he occupied his empty hands by crossing his arms. “Really? That’s your best reply to me trying to reassure you?”

Lance shoved him lightly, a small smile settling onto his lips. The corner of his mouth quirked upwards, and somehow, seeing Lance smile made his own smile grow larger and more genuine. “Hey, serious conversations have never been my strong suit.”

“I’m well aware,” Keith said.

“Lance! Keith!” Pidge yelled, hurrying them up. She probably thought they were fooling around in the bathroom and wasting time. These kinds of conversations were good for them both, though; Keith needed time to get his feelings out, and Lance was, really, the only person he could do that with in this universe.

Keith took one last look at himself in the mirror, young and exhausted, and nodded towards Lance.

Hunk and Pidge were standing by the tall table by the window of the living room. On the table were all the materials they’d managed to gather before leaving the Garrison: the files Hunk had taken from the lab, the report on Keith that had caused this whole mess, and a bunch of other science-y-looking papers that Keith couldn’t fathom. Pidge had a pen stuck in between her lips as she flipped through one of the reports.

“You two good?” Hunk asked.

“Yeah,” Lance said, and Hunk’s face lifted in what looked like shock. “We wanted to shower—separately—before leaving, since only god knows when we’ll next be able to,” he said, a little more flustered. Hunk’s face relaxed and he went back to writing in a notebook.

Pidge pulled the pen out of her mouth and pointed it towards Keith, ignoring Lance’s standard weirdness. “The same thing happened in your memories. Shiro and Matt being captured. What did the Galra do to them?”

“That won’t help. It’s not even remotely similar to what’s happening here. When Shiro and Matt were taken by the Galra—it was on Kerberos, and the Garrison wasn’t involved,” Keith said.

“There’s still parallels. It’s not a coincidence that the same people were left behind both here and where you’re from.” She grabbed a scrap piece of paper and began to draw on it as she spoke. “You never know what’ll help.”

Lance elbowed him in the side and Keith internally groaned. He’d already recounted his history multiple times for all of them. He really wished they’d file the information into their brains so he didn’t have to keep remembering it. It wasn’t like the memories were very pleasant for him—seeing Shiro break down in any circumstance unnerved him. “They were sent to fight in this… arena… for entertainment. Shiro beat a whole bunch of alien monsters and ended up becoming the champion of the arena. They experimented on him, too. Gave him a metal arm that’s practically indestructible.”

“So the Galra like experimenting,” Pidge hummed. She pulled up her pen. “The Galra had to land on Earth somehow. With a ship, that is, except there’s nowhere in the Garrison itself for them to hide it. All of the docking stations are public access, even the ones for Garrison employees. That means they’re hiding their ship somewhere near the Garrison, but not inside it, since they managed to get to the Garrison in around twenty minutes.”

She shoved the paper she’d drawn on towards the center of the table. He recognized what was on it instantly, from months of roaming the desert and the area around it on his bike, passing through towns for supplies and attempting to find the source of the energy from the cave Blue had been in. The lines represented the roads to and from the Garrison, and the squares represented the storage houses in each of the neighboring towns.

“There’s four places big enough to fit ships that are private access.” She pressed the pen to each of the four squares. “If they want to experiment on anyone, it can’t be at the Garrison. We saw how unorganized they were when they were chasing us. If they’re smart, which I assume the Galra are,” she glanced at Keith, “they would have taken them back to their ship to keep them quiet. Ergo, one of these four spaces.”

“So we hit up each village until we find the right one, break in, grab them, and run?” Lance leaned over to look at the drawing. “We can find Blue to get out of here faster.”

“What?” Pidge questioned.

“Ignore him.” Keith elbowed Lance, harder than Lance had done to him. “We can’t put stock into a plan with such a large margin of error. Looking through each area seems like the best option. We can figure out what to do once we have Shiro. And Matt,” he added hastily. Pidge smiled at him from across the table, satisfied by his effort.

“In the report that they had on Keith, they had a section about his recovery.” Hunk didn’t look up from where he was writing, and Lance’s head snapped towards him. “Since Not-Keith is part Galra or whatever, we can utilize that to break into their system.”

“I didn’t read it yet,” Keith said, now feeling a bit stupid for having wasted so much time sleeping instead of helping out. Everyone else had done their research, including Lance.

“How would that help? They know he’s not a real Galra, I mean. Look at him.” Lance waved at Keith’s face and Keith’s went pink. He rationalized it by reminding himself that he wasn’t in his own body. “He’s too good-looking to be one of them!”

“Not the point, Lance,” Pidge grumbled.

“Yeah, uh, I meant more along the lines of that Keith’s recovery time is so low that he can be a little more risky than the rest of us.”

“Low?” Keith mumbled. He touched his scalp, feeling the furred skin where he had been burned.

“The fur appears where you’ve been hurt. Usually within an hour or so.” Hunk stood up straight. “So…”

“When we find out where they’re being held, we send in Keith first. That makes sense. He knows the most and is the most resilient. As long as we’re behind him, he can get roughed up a bit. I doubt we’ll be able to get in without a fight,” Pidge said.

Keith took out his dagger and held it up, watching as the bandages wrapped around the hilt reflected in the light. “I can do it.” The fast healing was the only genuinely good part about being Galra. He hadn’t felt himself bleeding last night after being burned by Galra technology, he could push himself more.

Lance worried his lower lip with his teeth. “What if something happens?”

“We’ll be right behind him. The whole idea is that he scouts out the area before we rush in after him unarmed. If he’s in any real danger, we’ll be there,” Hunk said.

“How can we help him if we’re unarmed?!”

“We have fists, don’t we?” Pidge punched at the air, grinning. “I’ll knock them out with my bare hands if it comes down to it.”

“I’d love to see that,” Lance snorted.

“It’s alright, Lance. It’s easier for me to sneak in alone first and clear a path so you guys can follow.” Because, no offense to any of them, he didn’t particularly trust them to stay level-headed after last night in the face of the Galra, particularly when it was such an emotionally-charged mission. “Which area do we check first?”

“There’s four villages, and four of us, so…” Pidge trailed off.

“We only have one ship,” Lance frowned. “And we can’t be ‘right behind Keith’ if we’re not close to each other.”

“I turned off all of our portables’ signals, aside from the ones given to each other, so we still have a way to communicate without interference.” She gave an apologetic look to Keith for sneaking into his personal data, though it wasn’t really his. “Two of the villages are close to each other. So we can make three trips, and the ship can end and stay with Keith.”

“Ugh,” Lance grumbled. “But what if something happens and he can’t message us? What if one of us find the Galra before he does?”

“It’ll take way longer if all four of us only check one at a time. All we have to do is go in, run around a bit, and check for signs of the Galra. And then whoever gets the lucky area can call the rest. Technically, unless someone does something stupid—I’m talking to you two—” She squinted at Hunk and Lance in turn, “—None of us will meet any Galra and we’ll be totally safe.”

Below the line of the table, Lance put his arm around Keith’s waist, tugging him a step closer so that their hips were touching. His fingers slipped underneath Keith’s shirt and rubbed at the taut skin of his stomach; Keith suppressed a shiver.

“It’s the best plan I can think of,” Keith said. “It’s not like we can plan much else. We don’t know what they’re actually doing to them. Splitting up is the most time-efficient way of rescuing them when we don’t know what to do after.”

“The four facilities all have different layouts, but I dunno which one would be the most suitable for hiding aliens in.” Hunk prodded the paper he was working on to settle beside Pidge’s drawing.

“I’ll take the smallest one.” Pidge pushed her glasses further up the bridge of her nose. Lance choked back a laugh, his fingers on Keith’s waist tightening with his laughter. “Don’t you dare make a short joke, Lance.”

“Hey, I’ll take any humour I can get right now,” Lance said.

“Touché,” Pidge replied.

“So, this one to Pidge,” Hunk marked off the smallest building. “Keith should take the biggest one, and then I’m guessing Lance will want the one closer to Keith. There.”

“Sounds good,” Keith said.

“Then… if there’s nothing else we need to do, we can leave.” Pidge shoved the papers on the table away, standing back. “I mean, there’s a lot more that we need to talk about. In general. But not right now.”

Keith understood; the time they spent planning didn’t correlate positively to the exactness of their plan. There were too many murky variables, and ever since his and Lance’s failed expedition to find Blue, he knew well how extensive planning didn’t equal a successful mission. It was better to run in and get it over with.

He almost chuckled. Shiro would be horrified by how little effort they were really putting into this. Whatever, Shiro couldn’t complain. He was the one they were saving.

“Wait, we’re coming back, right? I already unpacked all of my stuff,” Lance said, pulling Keith closer, like Keith was one of the things he was trying to protect. Keith rolled his eyes.

“Why would you unpack? We’re not going to live here! We don’t have time to stand around while you gather all your stuff again.”

“Why _would_ you unpack?” Hunk echoed, mumbling.

Keith didn’t like it, but he knew why Lance most likely had settled in so quickly. He disliked change, and the concept of leaving the area he’d started to view as home didn’t sit well with him.

“We should have time to come back eventually, as long as they aren’t chasing us right out of the building.” Keith wasn’t optimistic about their chances of managing to find Shiro and Matt without having a fleet chasing after them, however, he didn’t want to tell Lance that. He couldn’t remember a single time where they had run into the Galra and not ended up either fighting or being chased. Last night included.

Lance peeked at him, disappointment edging on the muscles on his face. “Fine,” he grumbled.

“I moved the ship to the back, so it was covered by the building in the direction facing the Garrison. Just in case,” Hunk shrugged. He and Pidge both picked up their portables.

“Let me grab one thing—”

“Really, Lance?” Pidge called, standing by the door.

“Just one thing! Start up the ship, we’ll be there in a second.”

We? Lance was too confident in dragging Keith into things. “Just go. The ship will take a minute to charge,” Keith sighed. Lance hurried into the room where he and Keith had slept, and Hunk and Pidge left for the ship.

“Take off your jacket!” Lance yelled, voice muted from behind the door. A few seconds and loud crashes later, he came out holding something behind his back.

“Me?”

“Who else would I be talking to?”

“Lance…” Keith inflected Lance’s name low. “Is now really the time?” He got it; Lance didn’t want to do this. Everything was happening so suddenly. In the span of three weeks, Keith had gone from almost dead to another person entirely. But he didn’t want to encourage Lance’s nervous antics. In the end, it’d only cause more anxiety for him.

“Your jacket exposes your midriff.” Lance poked Keith’s waist. “You can wear mine. It covers me.”

“Hey,” Keith said, jumping back. “No one is going to be stabbing me in the gut.”

Lance began to pull off Keith’s jacket. Sighing, he allowed Lance to slip it off, and then Lance passed him his signature dark green one. It was very odd and almost uncomfortable to see Lance in a jacket that wasn’t his usual one.

“Any protection helps, right?” Lance said, looking so bright that Keith couldn’t really be angry. Lance’s jacket was warm from being on his shoulders for the past day and a half, and it was admittedly comforting to carry around a piece of him, rather than simply his portable that he could use to contact him.

“Whatever, weirdo,” Keith said. He wrapped his red jacket around his waist and tied it at the front.

“It’s not weird to want the person you like to be safe.” Lance grabbed Keith’s portable, passed it to him, and then tucked the piece of Blue in his jacket pocket.

“I’m not the person you like,” Keith reminded him.

“I don’t know. I like you,” Lance said nonchalantly. “We’re at least friends.”

Keith swallowed and then headed outside, Lance trailing behind him. They were friends, except for the part where Lance was stuck in the routine of treating Keith a little more than friends, and Keith was letting him. Because whenever Lance did any of those loving touches, his heart began to beat faster, knowing that Lance was treating him like that.

And that was stupid, because at the same time, they weren’t meant for him. Forget how inappropriate the timing was in general—Keith was having these thoughts while on his way to save an alternate version of his best friend.

“Alright,” Hunk said when they climbed in. Keith locked the door behind him and settled into the pilot’s seat. “We can drop Pidge and myself off, and then Lance, and then Not-Keith can land the ship. I put in the coordinates already.”

“Back to Not-Keith?” Pidge smirked.

“Thanks, Hunk,” Keith said. He lifted them off the ground and looked at the map. As they moved, the tiny speck on the map that was his shack became smaller and smaller. The locations of the storage areas they were checking out were relatively spread out, though the space in between Keith and Lance’s stations was smaller than the rest.

He wasn’t scared in terms of the actual mission. He’d been through infinitely worse—stranded alone on deserted planets, thrown out of multiple ships and Red, and been beaten within half an inch of his life. He’d died.

The only thing he hated was not knowing what came after, what they would do with Blue in the Galra’s hands and Allura a million light years away. It would be nothing short of a miracle for them to get into contact with her, if she was even alright. The thought that she and Coran weren’t okay hadn’t crossed his mind.

There was no time to dwell on it, however, and not in the same sense that Keith had been pondering over for the past few weeks. Their situation was imminent, not in the far-off future. Hunk took a deep breath by the door.

“Make sure your portable is on vibrate,” Pidge reminded him.

“No, I totally want the aliens to hear my Tinashe ringtone,” Hunk joked. Pidge and Lance both glared at him, then went into a fit of laughter. “Thanks for reminding me,” he said sheepishly.

“Don’t rush in if you spot anything.”

“Got it,” Hunk said. When they stopped in front of the first village, Hunk hugged both Lance and Pidge lightly. And then, after a second, he reached over and half-hugged Keith as best as he could while he was sitting down.

“Good luck,” Keith called.

“You too, guys!” Hunk gave a little wave and then stepped out. Keith immediately lifted off, not waiting for Lance to close the door again. Any time spent on the ground was not only time wasted, but time that gave them a bigger chance to be caught out as Garrison escapees.

“I can’t believe this is really happening,” Lance mumbled, voicing the thoughts Keith had wondered if he was thinking earlier. “Are you sure splitting up is a good idea?”

“Considering Hunk isn’t with us anymore, I think it’s too late to turn back on this plan now.” Pidge pushed his shoulder. “It’ll be fine. None of us are going to be in danger. We have each other.”

“I trust you,” Keith said, at neither of them in particular. He felt like it was important for Lance to hear. Trust was, by far, the most important part of being a team. It’s why he had felt comfortable enough to eject himself from Red all those weeks ago. “We’re going to save Shiro, not end up with any of us captured as well. I’ve seen all of you go in worse things alone.”

“Nnng.” Lance bit on his nails. “Okay.”

“If you get nervous, just think of Shiro giving you a disappointed brotherly discussion,” Pidge said.

“That doesn’t help!”

Keith was glad they were joking around, at least. It was always better to go into a serious situation laughing. He couldn’t count how many times the others playfully arguing over their comm system had lifted his spirits, and that was saying something, since Keith wasn’t the type to get his spirits lifted often.

“I don’t think it should take very long for all of us to break into the buildings and then look around, so keep an eye on your portables, both of you,” Pidge said. She opened the door as Keith came to rest the ship on the ground. “Let’s do this.”

Keith looked over the seat of his chair. As emotionally charged as Pidge could be, she was one of the fiercest fighters he’d ever met, and he could respect how quickly she’d bounced from anger to determination. He gave her a wave back as she hopped off the ledge of the ship and then scurried into the outside.

“We really do stuff like this all the time?” Lance muttered, standing right beside Keith.

“Almost every day,” Keith said. He set course for Lance’s building and tore his eyes away from the dashboard to look at Lance. “You like it.”

“Pfft.”

“Not the fighting part so much as helping people and flying. And, I mean, it is the other Lance. It’s not you. But I think you could like it as well. It’s not like any of us started off as superheroes or anything like that.”

Lance crouched down to be on eye-level with Keith. “Everything will be alright?”

Keith wasn’t scared, but Lance was. He was trying not to be, because that wasn’t very Lance-like, and Lance’s name did come from the idea of a hero. He would’ve never noticed three weeks ago, and he would be lying if he said he’d be able to tell in his own world, too.

But there were wrinkles around Lance’s eyes from how tired he was, and there was a tiny cut on his lip from where he had been chewing incessantly on it. He thought about all the things Lance had done in the shack in only ten hours—he’d read through all the papers, Keith’s report, and reorganized all of his items into their respective places. He probably hadn’t relaxed like Keith had asked him to.

He released the control stick and raised his hand, reaching for Lance. Lance smiled briefly at him and leaned forward, hugging him, a position that had become a comfort for Keith rather than an uncomfortable and forced gesture.

“Yeah. It will be,” he said. Lance moved himself so that Keith’s chin was resting on his shoulder. “You can do it,” he added as an afterthought.

“I don’t want anything to go wrong,” Lance said quietly. “I don’t want to think that this is serious and—and that there’s a chance that it could go wrong and someone could end up dead.”

Keith squirmed back until he was far enough from Lance that he could look him in the eyes, but not far enough that Lance had to let go of him. “No one is going to die. Considering the track record of near-death experiences, there’s less of a chance of anyone getting hurt.” He rubbed Lance’s cheek. “And we’re all only a call away.”

It’d been hard enough for them to be thrust into the situation of being a team. Keith remembered endless days of arguing and throwing blame at each other until they were able to form Voltron. Having it involve Lance’s boyfriend made it more personal, and that wasn’t normally a good thing. Until he could use that status to brighten his outlook.

He knew that they could do this. It was daunting, yes, but not even close to impossible. It wasn’t like all of the Galra in the universe were there. The four of them were more than enough to trick a few dumb Galra. They’d already slipped past them once; Lance had to give himself more credit.

“Keep my jacket on?”

“I will,” Keith promised.

“And don’t do anything stupid?”

“I never intentionally do anything stupid, Lance,” Keith huffed, turning back to the dashboard. They were nearing Lance’s destination.

“And you swear that you’ll call us the minute you find anything?”

“Why are you assuming I’ll be the one to find something?”

Lance released him and stood up. “If you find anything.”

“Yes,” Keith sighed. “Of course I will. We’re coming up to the coordinate Hunk put in.” Lance didn’t move from his side, though, even as the ship landed on the ground. “Lance?” No movement. “Lance?” he tried again.

“I just have a bad feeling about this,” Lance mumbled. “Like that night we tried to find Blue, everything blew up, and—”

“I get bad feelings a lot. Every day. That doesn’t mean every day is bad.” Keith pressed ‘hold’ on the ship and stood up, grabbing Lance’s shoulders. “You can do this. Okay? I’m telling you that you can. So if you can’t listen to yourself, listen to me.”

Lance’s eyes watered, growing red. “I don’t know how you thought you could act like a stranger to us,” he choked out. “You are such a sap.”

“I don’t know how either,” Keith admitted.

Lance sucked his chest in deeply, blinking back his tears, and then he was back to his usual posture. “I’ll see you soon.” He pressed one hand to the door and shoved it open.

“Stay safe,” Keith said.

Lance nodded and put one foot on the edge of the ship, then paused. Keith was about to step back when Lance reached out suddenly and grabbed his shirt, pulling him forward.

Keith was used to them kissing now. He was used to the ridges on Lance’s lips and the way their noses bumped whenever Lance got too eager. He was used to the way Lance always tugged at his shirt, as if to bring him closer, as if they weren’t already touching in almost every way.

“Lance,” Keith breathed out, mind spinning every which way. There was a torrent of thoughts going through him at that moment, none of which made sense. Mostly it was _how did Lance know?_ And then _of course he could tell, he knows you better than you know yourself._

“We’re not like that,” Lance said. “I know that. And I know I say ‘I know that’ a lot too, but I really do know that. I just want to try and make you happy, like you try for me. You deserve that too. I don’t think you’ve given yourself enough credit either.”

Keith breathed in deeply as Lance released his shirt, then with another whispered ‘goodbye’, exited the ship. The door closed automatically after a few seconds, leaving a wash of cold air over his body.

Forget being Galra. How was Keith going to look his Lance in the eyes after this without his heart bursting out of his chest? Without knowing that they could be together and happy?

The controls on the ship beeped in protest of being abandoned while the ship was still running. His legs felt both stiff and like jelly-like as he walked over, slumping back into his seat and taking off, setting aim for the last building.

He occupied his hands so he wouldn’t end up tugging on his hair and playing with what was left of the fur on his scalp. Fixing his portable’s position in the bag by his waist, grazing his fingers over the metal of his dagger, tapping absently at the cold plastic of the dashboard and trying to think about Shiro.

When he got to the village, he circled around the buildings until he found a relatively hidden spot to land his ship. There were a few other merchant traders littering the area, and hopefully, the proximity of them would hide the tiny Garrison logo that marked the side of his.

Keith did have a bad feeling now, and he didn’t know why; his heart, for all intents and purposes, was soaring with delight. It was his brain that was nagging at him with uncertainty, one he couldn’t place the reasoning of.

He turned off his ship and ran over to the building. It was massive and white, and it looked like any other storage building for ships. Kneeling down in front of the nearest door, he was about to stab open the lock when he realized it was already open.

It didn’t creak as it opened. He stuck his head through the smallest crack possible; it appeared to be the lobby of the docking area, with tiled floors and large glass windows showing off the ships behind. No one was waiting, which was to be expected considering it was so early in the morning. He stepped inside and closed the door with both his palms. Two hallways branched off from either side of the lobby, presumably to the same place; but if the Galra really were stationed in this building somewhere, going to the wrong side greatly heightened his chances of getting caught. He had no way of telling which side would be the right side, though, if there was a right side. There was always the chance that the Galra weren’t here at all, but he prayed they were.

Keith put a hand to his chest, curling it over the edges of Lance’s jacket. He had to listen to his own advice and instincts. Not Shiro’s, or Lance’s, or anyone else’s. The only person that could get him through any mission, ultimately, was himself.

Readying his dagger, he stepped towards the crossroads.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so guys. we've made it. the penultimate chapter (excluding the epilogue). is everyone ready? in less than 2 weeks, this fic will be over. holy shit. 4 months and 100k+ words later! 
> 
> as always, please let me know what you think -- especially know that we're so close to this fic ending. this has been a serious journey for me, and the comments are what drive me. i smile every single time i get one. thank you to everyone who's commented, whether it's once, twice, or every chapter. all of it means so much to me.
> 
> talk to me on [tumblr](http://koizumi.tumblr.com) and [twitter](http://twitter.com/tsukaleoluvr69)!
> 
> ps. as always, i can't help the self-plugs: i wrote some [spicy klance](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8292728), check it out if that suits your fancy!


	24. Chapter 24

In the end, it didn’t really matter which pathway he went down into the storage area, because it was empty. It was funny how many decisions he’d agonized over lately that turned out to mean jack shit.

He cursed under his breath when he stepped off of the metal pathway and onto the cool rubble of the storage area. There were a few ships to the side of the room, tucked in the corner near the docking entrance, that were emblazoned with the local merchant symbol. A large, government-owned ship sat a few feet away, a large red streak on its side showing its status. A mouse ran by his feet, nibbling on a hard, purple rock that it thought was food.

That was it. No Galra.

He walked over to the small group of ships, back to the wall in case there was anybody in the room, though he appeared to be alone. All of the lights were off. Normally, silence comforted him; it kept him grounded and allowed his thoughts to sort himself out. When the silence was accompanied by complete loneliness, however, it left him feeling queasy.

That meant there was a very, very likely chance that one of the others had walked right into a storage facility hosting the Galra. He trusted that they would alert him if they did find them, and not rush right in.

By the time he got to the group of ships, he already had his portable pulled out. Peering into the darkened windows of the closest ship, he saw boxes of items labelled for trade and a box of cigarettes sitting on the top—nothing which indicated the tiny, innocent thing was housing any Galra.

_Sent August 7, 21XX to Katie, Hunk, Lance: No Galra here. Status updates?_

He held his portable to his chest, underneath Lance’s jacket, and kept walking through the hall created by the sides of the ships. He was only checking to be one-hundred percent sure. There was no logical way that any Galra fleet of a respectable size could fit onto any of these ships unless they stood shoulder-to-shoulder for the entire flight.

_Sent August 7, 21XX from Katie: Nothing here._

After a moment, another message buzzed through.

_Sent August 27, 21XX from Hunk: Same_

Keith’s stomach flipped with dread. A line of sweat rolled down his temple and he wiped it away with his jacket sleeve, rubbing his fingers along the pained crease that appeared on his forehead.

That only left one person.

_Sent August 7, 21XX to Katie, Hunk, Lance: Lance?_

His legs were rooted in place, soles stuck to the ground, as he waited for Lance to answer. Twenty seconds ticked by, changing the time on the little blue clock on Keith’s portable. Another twenty seconds, and nothing, still.

_Sent August 7, 21XX to Katie, Hunk, Lance: Lance???_

“Damn it,” he hissed, shutting off his portable. He was immensely grateful that Lance’s mission location was the closest to his. It shouldn’t take more than two minutes for him to fly over there, and hopefully, Lance hadn’t alerted the Galra that he was there and Keith would be able to lower the ship right beside the building.

He kept the portable in one hand in the event that Lance messaged them. Now that he knew there was no one in the room, he ran straight through the empty space, every breath coming out as if it was going to swallow his throat up whole.

As he was running, his toe hit something hard and sharp, and then his arm followed, and then his forehead. He staggered back, barely managing to keep himself upright, and covered his forehead. A cut appeared under his fingers, and when he retracted his hand, there was blood tacked to his gloves.

“What the fuck,” he muttered and looked up, vision dotted with black.

A long, pointed purple tip was right before him, tinged with his blood. And then, beyond that, was a familiar mass of murky grey and glowing windows, charged with energy, flickering as they were revealed into the open air.

It wasn’t the largest Galra ship he’d ever seen, but it was absolutely big enough to host what he had been looking for.

He blinked a few times, easing his eyes back into focus, and looked over the ship. Nothing stirred other than the lights after the ship was done materializing.

Galra ships could camouflage. They couldn’t go invisible. Not to the naked eye—not when Keith was so close.

He couldn’t think of how exactly the Galra had learned the technology to turn themselves invisible. The ship seemed to pulse, radiating a kind of energy that Keith automatically related back to the Galra. It was the kind of energy that spread over his skin like cobwebs, keeping his lungs and limbs constrained. Sluggishly, he reached for his portable, pausing when he touched the cold cover.

There was something in his chest, pressing down on his heart, inching through his body and into his mind that was calling to him. A deep rumble, and then a loud, booming roar echoed in his ears, though the room was quiet.

Red. Her voice was garbled, like it was being put through a blender, and higher than he remembered; but it had to be her. Who else would be calling to him like this?

His breath hitched and he moved his hand away, looking around. The ship couldn’t fit her comfortably, unless— _unless_ they’d taken her apart, like they had to Blue.

He kept his dagger outstretched as he circled the ship, keeping his eyes trained on every panel he passed. Nothing moved other than his own feet. With every step, the roaring became louder, and when he came to the other side of the ship, it turned into a soft purr.

“Red,” he whispered, tugging at the collar of Lance’s jacket, loosening it as if it would help him breathe. “Red…”

The portable became a long-lost thought shoved to the back of his brain. Grabbing onto the handles of the ship, he hoisted himself through the door. An electronic screen was positioned by the frame. Recognizing it from the other dozen times he’d been on a Galra ship, he ripped off his glove using his teeth and aligned his palm with the sensor.

It opened, and left spots of purple in its wake when he retracted his hand.

There was something about the air in Galra ships that had always unnerved him. It wasn’t the smell, or the sight, or even the taste of the air, which changed on every planet that bothered him; it was how immaculately put-together everything was. Everything the Galra did was intentional, to further their position as the universe’s evil overlords, or whatever it was their end goal was.

Shiro had to be on this ship somewhere. Red was here somewhere, or, a piece of her was. Those were the only thoughts that kept him from wincing when the door shut behind him.

He put his glove back on and continued into the ship. A Galra soldier rounded the corner and then yelled unintelligibly, raising a sword.

Keith had fought much worse in his life; hell, he’d fought much worse yesterday, and Keith didn’t even have to put all of his strength into the slice that sent the Galra soldier barrelling into the wall. Keith gave him another stab to the leg for good measure. Both to confirm that he was dead and because Keith was angry.

The roar in his ears returned, growing louder when he pulled back from the Galra soldier and scrubbed the blood from his face again.

“I’m coming,” he said. The doors in front of him opened automatically, sliding backwards to allow himself to cross through. Galra ships were often like mazes, a trail of rooms that branched off in every direction, each with their own importance. This one was no different. “Where are you?”

The lions couldn’t talk in the sense that they could speak English, and he couldn’t feel her enough to get a good grasp on her location. With the level he had right now, it felt more like she was everywhere around him—the ceilings, the walls, and the sad noise she made pricked his skin and made the cut on his face seem minuscule in comparison.

A few more Galra grunts greeted him as he ran through the rooms. None of them were any match for his dagger. He got a few scrapes from near-misses; this body didn’t have the agility that his own did, especially after a month of being completely sedative.

He ripped the first aid kit he saw off the wall. The contents were all bizarre, only holding vague similarities to the ones that he was used to. They’d have to do. He pressed what he assumed was the Galra equivalent of a bandage to his forehead and the knick on his arm before continuing to run.

Another set of doors opened for him, and abruptly, Red began to purr. The noise was so sudden in the mixture of her roaring that he jumped, knocking into a table.

“Please, don’t—Keith?” an indistinctly voice said. Keith’s head snapped towards the source. He’d never met Matt Holt in person, but he looked exactly like the pictures Keith had seen. His big glasses were noticeably missing. “What are you doing here? Wh—Where is everyone else?”

Keith sighed in relief and went over, turning Matt over. There were black handcuffs holding his hands together and Keith cut them apart, doing the same for his legs.

“Keith?” Matt asked, voice smaller, and Keith realized how he must look, bloodied up and in Lance’s torn jacket.

“They’re looking for you,” Keith said. He pulled out his portable and passed it to Matt. He was actually glad that he’d found Matt before finding Shiro, even if he was practically dead weight in helping fight the Galra. That meant Keith could continue deeper into the ship while Matt contacted the others. “Where is Shiro?”

“He’s—” Matt coughed, and his weak hands could barely hold the portable up. “They took him into the—the lab. There’s a lab on this ship. I went first, and then they brought him. It’s been so long. Hours?”

“Fuck,” Keith said. He checked Matt over. “Are you injured?” Dry blood was matted to his clothing.

“No.” Matt managed to open the cover of the portable. His hands were shaking so much that it took him five tries to slide the power on. “They—they healed most of it.”

“Can you walk?”

Matt shook his head again. Keith groaned and stepped away, glancing at the door.

“I’m going to go look for Shiro. Message Pidge and the others using my portable. Tell them to hijack another ship and come here.”

“You’re—” Matt tried to say, breaking out into another coughing fit.

Keith tore off the sensor at the door so that no one would be able to open it via handprint, then manually dragged it shut behind him. It effectively locked Matt in, but it would also keep the Galra out for a few moments. Unless someone was very determined to get to him, he should be safe there long enough for the others to find a ship and get here. It didn’t appear like anyone had been watching over him. And, honestly, Shiro was the larger target. He was bigger, stronger, and a more valuable asset to the Galra.

Admittedly, it probably wasn’t a good idea to leave Matt completely defenseless aside from jamming the door, but he had to get to Shiro. It was selfish, but he had to.

If Shiro was truly hurt—if, god forbid, they had done anything to his arm—Keith wasn’t sure if he could forgive himself. He would definitely never forgive the Galra.

He fought through another wave of Galra. More and more of them came the more doors he opened, and a few had weapons that indicated they were a little more than the simple soldier. He had no idea where he was going on the ship’s map. He had to be getting closer. The ship wasn’t that big.

Red became a buzz in his header, quieter and quieter until she disappeared all together. He slammed open one of the doors, pressing his palm so hard down on the sensor that it cracked, the doors pausing halfway.

Without Red in his head, the world became a blur again. He blinked a few times, feet stilling, as he tried to adjust to the loss of her voice—the feeling of being alone again.

While he wasn’t familiar in the area, he knew by the time it took to fly here that it should only be around ten or fifteen minutes before the others arrived. Then again, he didn’t really want them to come charging in. Galra were still festering inside the ship, and the thought of any of them—of Lance—getting hurt—

A Galra soldier shouted, charging towards him. Keith shook his head and snapped back into reality, catching the Galra’s hands in his and forcing them back by slicing his dagger along his knuckles.

This body may not have the same agility he was used to, but he could still fight. He knew how to feint in and out of battle in order to trip them up, and where the best places to slam his elbows to make them keel over. Another wave of Galra later, he was surrounded by panting, unconscious bodies. He slit their throats and arms and continued on.

The Galra were purple, and so when he saw a flash of black hair behind the sliding doors, it could only be one person.

He drove his dagger into the door’s sensor to stall it and then shoved it back by his hip, running over.

“Shiro,” he gasped, breathing hard. Shiro’s eyes were shut and his Garrison uniform was bloodied and tattered, far worse than Matt’s. “Shiro…”

Keith brushed his fingers through Shiro’s greasy hair. He turned his jaw over and stifled a groan when he saw what the Galra had done to him.

A scar ran over the bridge of his nose, freshly made, the blood still drying around the edges. Keith wiped it off with the sleeve of Lance’s jacket, forcing himself not to tear up. He lifted Shiro’s sleeve, though the relief that came with seeing a human arm didn’t absolve the horrible feeling he had.

“Shiro,” he whispered, cracking open the bonds that held Shiro to the desk. Matt had been right when he said the Galra had taken Shiro to a lab. It wasn’t the same as the lab in the Garrison, which Keith chalked up to it being on a mobile ship. Shelves held stocks of alien medicine and metals that Keith only vaguely recognized from the others tinkering with them back home, and there was a glowing board filled with jargon in a language Keith couldn’t read.

A tall, intimidating machine stood in the corner. It _had_ multiple large, swinging arms, with claws that could fit a human’s head perfectly. Keith looked back at Shiro and cupped his face in his hands.

“Not again,” he promised. “I won’t let them touch you.”

“Mm…” Shiro pulled away from him and Keith tried not to let it get to him. The Galra had done a number on him, regardless of whether it involved his arm, and he couldn’t imagine waking up in an alien ship, not knowing who was looming overhead of you. Keith shot out of Shiro’s way when his fist rose to the air, intending to connect with Keith’s cheek.

“It’s me,” Keith said, catching Shiro’s hand. “Shiro?”

Shiro’s eyes flew open, darting all across the ceiling and walls before landing on Keith. “Keith—” he said, frowning. “Keith?”

“I’m going to get you out of here. Matt is calling the others.” Keith let go of Shiro’s hand.

“Is that Lance’s jacket?”

Keith laughed. “Is that what’s important right now?”

Shiro didn’t laugh back. His large eyebrows strung together and he tried to sit up, struggling to get his arms good purchase on the table.

“It’s dangerous here,” Shiro said, like it wasn’t obvious. Keith was covered in bruises. He didn’t need to be told twice.

“It’s nothing I can’t handle.” Keith wrapped his arm underneath Shiro’s armpits and tried to help him up. Getting him off the table wasn’t easy when Shiro was both larger and taller than him.

“How—How is Matt?” Shiro asked. Every motion of his legs and arms made him wince. Keith moved carefully to get him onto his feet, not wanting to aggravate any of his injuries any further. He surveyed the room for anything he could use to help him stay upright.

“He should be fine. I think I killed most of the Galra on the ship.” Keith was thankful that Shiro didn’t give him a horrified look and instead nodded, sighing in relief. “We still need to get out of here fast.”

Shiro smiled wryly. “Not sure how fast I can run,” he said. There were bruises around his throat, making it difficult for him to speak.

Keith wracked his mind for something he could use to help Shiro walk. “Do you want to sit on my back?”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Shiro joked.

If only Red was actually here with him, all of his worries would be gone instantly. Fighting wouldn’t be an issue, and his comfort level would be through the roof, if only he could press his hands to her nose and nuzzle against her steel.

“Let’s just try and get out as fast as we can,” Keith said.

Shiro sighed, frazzled, and forced himself to match Keith’s admittedly slow pace. Keith didn’t say anything further. He didn’t want to make Shiro more stressed when his own nerves were out in the open, and talking would only slow them down when it caused Shiro pain. Matt was waiting for them, and hopefully, the others were close as well.

He felt like a live wire, overexposed and thrumming with excess energy, but he couldn’t let that get to him. Keith had fought much worse, and he had to keep reminding himself of that. This was nothing. This was petty compared to what he was used to. He could do this with his eyes closed.

As they approached the doors, the side of the sensor facing them shook, fizzing out when a metallic hand thrust itself through the wall and then broke it. The doors buzzed and flew open automatically. Just as quickly, Keith dragged Shiro to the side of the room, covering him with his own body.

“Keith,” Shiro said, his hold on Keith’s arms tightening. Keith squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his forehead to Shiro’s. He could feel the Galra behind him, presence looming large, even without actually seeing him.

“I’ll handle this,” Keith whispered. He pulled out his dagger, its grip in his hand becoming increasingly more at home, and turned.

He wasn’t sure what he expected. Sendak wasn’t one of those things.

Normally, Sendak didn’t scare him in the slightest. His fighting skills weren’t at all comparable to Keith’s after two years of meticulous homage, and his armoured fist couldn’t compare to a combined blast from Red and the other lions.

Keith didn’t have Red. Not directly beside him, though a piece of her had to be somewhere close. That was already one down for him.

“Recovered quickly from your battle yesterday, I see,” Sendak hummed. He raised his arm and the whole length of it ignited, flashing red. The glow was much brighter than the armour that the other Galra had wore. Keith had no doubt that Sendak could slice right through him, especially when Keith had no proper protection. Lance’s jacket wasn’t going to save him. “Keith.”

“Don’t say my name,” Keith spat, twirling his dagger in between his fingers. They’d beaten Sendak before. He could do this. For Shiro, for the others; if he got hurt, he didn’t know what would happen. Nothing good, he knew that.

“You’re one of us. Why shouldn’t I?” Sendak asked. His steps were precise, each drag of his feet causing the floor of the ship to shake.

Keith laughed loudly, bitterly, and stood his ground. He repeated the motions that he’d done thousands of times before in his head, some no less than ten minutes ago: duck out, slide away, turn around, slice, repeat until the enemy was done.

Sendak was a bigger and badder opponent, sure. But Keith was a fucking defender of the universe. Sendak was equivalent to the shit on the bottom of his shoe. Underneath his stupid eyepatch and whirring arm, he was nothing compared to Keith.

Sendak staggered towards him and Keith growled, pushing himself forward. He had to get Sendak’s aim away from Shiro, most importantly. The other boy was defenseless and already injured. While Sendak wasn’t aiming for him, Keith wasn’t going to let a single stray shot hit him.

“Tell me about yourself,” Sendak said smoothly, turning as Keith skirted around him, drawing him away from Shiro. “Where are you from?”

“Earth,” Keith answered. Sendak replied with a swift swing to his front and Keith launched himself backwards, heels squeaking against the floor.

“You know that’s not what I meant.” Sendak smiled, a horrifying image. It was all sharp teeth and downturned fur. “Well, I suppose that it can’t be helped if you won’t admit anything. That’s fine. You already lead us to the Blue lion.”

“I didn’t do shit for you,” Keith sneered. Sendak blocked Keith’s stab to his thigh, throwing him off with a kick.

“On the contrary, you’ve been a great help to us.”

Keith growled again, and this time, it sounded inhuman to his own ears. “I will never, ever help you, Sendak,” he said. “I’ve defeated you before. I’ll do it again.”

“Before?” Sendak’s ears perked. He threw another hard punch in Keith’s direction, meant to tire Keith out rather than hurt him.

Keith bit his tongue. He doubted the Galra cared particularly about his own world. It didn’t affect this one, as far as he’d seen, or else the Galra would have all five lions already. However, he shouldn’t be giving him any information on it regardless; it would only fuel Sendak to make jabs at the others. Right now, the Galra may not know that they were paladins. He’d like to keep it that way.

“Shut the fuck up,” Keith said.

Sendak laughed, and in an instant, he was charging at Keith. There was a shift in his demeanor. His movements became sharper, more controlled.

If Sendak was telling the truth, and he had no reason to lie, then Keith was the one who had lead the Galra to Blue, presumably when his place was switched with the other Keith’s. Keith could follow Sendak’s line of thought easily; after two years, the Galra were predictable. They were after the lions, and if Keith wasn’t going to cooperate, allowing him to stay alive any longer would only be detrimental to their search for the last two or three.

Unfortunately for him, Keith had no intention to die again. Or give Sendak anything but the cold metal of his dagger, right through his heart.

Keith had been fooling around a little when he’d fought the Galra grunts on the way here. His movements had been sloppy, and he couldn’t spare that around Sendak, no matter how much better Keith knew he was than him. Shiro was behind him—the others, metaphorically, as well—and he couldn’t risk slipping up because he got cocky.

“Imagine how much easier,” Sendak panted, grinning still, “your life could be if you helped us. Perhaps we’d even let you go home.” He crashed his fist into the wall behind Keith, narrowly missing Keith’s head. It was only half the size of Sendak’s hand.

At the mention of his home, something harsh passed through him, urging him to rip at Sendak rather than stab. His eyes darted over Sendak’s form, picking out his weakest spots, and he was a split second from attacking him when he heard Shiro choke.

Sendak’s back straightened and he looked over his shoulder at Shiro, giving time for Keith to move away.

“It’s beeping,” Shiro said. He held his hand to the wall and stood up.

“What?” Keith asked. Sendak spoke in his own language, unintelligible to Keith. Keith recognized the tone as a swear.

“On the table.” Shiro pointed over to the desk that was beside the strange, head-holding contraption on the other side of the room.

Keith’s eyes widened back to Sendak, but the Galra looked shocked. He lowered his arm and then went to the door, barking orders into the communication system on his wrist.

Shiro tried to take a step towards the table. His legs gave out again after the first motion. Keith ran over and immediately recognized the black cover of Shiro’s portable. It was chipped at the edges and dirtied up with messy hand prints, but it was his; it had his name on the front, half-faded.

He opened it up, keeping one eye on Sendak.

_Sent August 7, 21XX from Lance: I’m almost there!_

“It’s from Lance,” Keith said. He ran to Shiro and dropped the portable in his hands. “He’s on his way. We need to get out of here. Sendak is distracted, we—”

By the door, Sendak ran his hand straight through the chest of a Galra soldier. Its lifeless body fell to the floor, blood pooling out from its heart.

“You two aren’t going anywhere,” he said, back facing Keith. “We’re going to be going on a little journey.”

Shiro grabbed onto Keith’s arm. His hands, normally big and strong and comforting, felt frail and limp.

“I can’t walk,” Shiro said.

Keith glanced between Shiro and Sendak. He could only do one thing at once, and he couldn’t fight while also carrying Shiro.

“I won’t kill you,” Sendak hummed. He looked at Shiro and Keith, up and down. “I wasn’t expecting this, but you may be useful after all.”

Keith rolled his eyes; as if Sendak had been going easy on him. Keith knew that wasn’t the case. He shifted, hiding Shiro behind him.

The walls around them brightened and Keith pressed himself harder against Shiro. Sendak stood still by the doors. A smile flickered across his face.

“Whether you like it or not, you’re going to bring us to the rest of the lions. Or else—”

He was cut off by the ship’s engines starting. He’d heard Galra ships starting up before, when he’s sneaked onto one. It was a unique ringing noise, partly powered by magic, and the force of the engines meant that any Galra ship could go far faster than a human ship ever could.

The ship was rising, Keith realized. They were leaving Earth.

“Or else what?”

Sendak marched forward. Keith had nowhere to go that didn’t leave Shiro defenseless to the swaying of the ship was it broke through the storage area’s ceiling. He raised his dagger when Sendak was directly in front of him, but he couldn’t get the leverage to give him a good stab. Sendak raised him off the ground by his collar, his claws ripping at Lance’s jacket.

“Your past will repeat,” Sendak murmured. His nails dug into Keith’s throat, pricking blood. “Don’t think I can’t tell what’s going on here.” He shook Keith, then threw him back onto the ground. He groaned, a hefty, sharp pain causing his vision and mind to go murky. “You’ll protect him with your life. That includes helping us. Yes?”

Shiro’s hand was on his shoulder, then on his back, helping him sit up. Keith rubbed the blood off his face.

“Don’t,” Shiro warned. “I can’t get up. Don’t do anything stupid.”

“I’m not going to leave you here. I came here to get you.”

Keith got back to his feet, swiping his dagger back. Shiro watched him from the floor, Keith’s blood splattering over his clothes.

He couldn’t turn around to look out the window, but the air around them shifted, and Keith knew they had to be out of Earth’s atmosphere now. He searched for an answer to their situation—he’d fucked up, majorly, by spending so much time fighting Sendak when he should have simply grabbed Shiro and ran. Now their only option was to hijack the ship and return back to Earth, then take it somewhere far away.

Emphasis on only. Space was vast and empty. There was nowhere else to go but other areas of the ship.

“You have nowhere else to go,” Sendak said firmly, mirroring Keith’s thoughts. “Help us, or your friend will die.”

Keith was the Red fucking paladin. He didn’t have time for this shit.

“You are going to regret saying that,” Keith said.

There was nothing—nothing—in any universe, any world, that would ever make him abandon or betray Shiro again, or any of the other paladins. No promises of safety, glory, or a home. His home was with his friends. His home was unreachable right now. The Galra could never hope to compare to that.

Keith couldn’t blame Sendak. He had no idea what Keith had been through. Had no idea what Keith had done, his skills, his mindset. All he knew was that Keith had defeated him once before, and maybe even then, Sendak had thought he was joking.

He hadn’t been.

Sendak thought he wasn’t strong enough to defeat him and take control of the ship. He thought Keith was so weak-minded that he would work with the Galra when threatened.

“Soon, we’ll be thousands of light years away from your home planet.” Sendak said this matter-of-factly, like it was supposed to be another thing to convince Keith. The whole concept was so bizarre that Keith laughed—Keith had no attachment to Earth, only the people on it. “If you don’t want to join us willingly, I’m sure if we put your friend in the—”

“Keith,” Shiro gasped. “Your arm.”

“What?” Keith looked down. His arm was covered in dark, matted purple fur. It blossomed over his arms right before his eyes, sticking out between the tears in Lance’s jacket.

He recalled what Hunk had said. One hour for the healing effects to settle on his body. It hadn’t been an hour since he’d been hurt, and he could feel fur sprouting on his legs and back, where he hadn’t been hurt nearly as bad.

He curled his hands; his nails were longer, sharper. The dagger felt lighter on his palm instantly.

“Brilliant,” Sendak breathed out. “A true mutt.”

Keith had been called that word once before: when he was a kid, at his orphanage, an older boy had pulled on his shirt and laughed. Mutt, he’d said; Keith had been the only Asian kid in the entire neighborhood. It was the sort of schoolground bullying that left him with a bad taste in his mouth, if not only because he hadn’t punched the guy, and he regretted that.

Luckily, he was fully capable of taking it out on Sendak.

“I,” Keith reeled, lunging towards him, “am not,” he outstretched his fingers; he had claws, and they were pointed enough to break through skin, “a _mutt_ ,” he screamed, pointing both his dagger and claws at Sendak.

He had gone through what Shiro would dub as a ‘phase’ in his life where he’d tried to ‘own’ the phrase. He was a mutt, he was different, and that was fine! One of those things was true: he was definitely different. But he wasn’t a mutt. The world itself implied that he was lesser than anyone who called him it. He wasn’t a mutt. He was a hero.

From there, he didn’t have to think about what he was doing. Sendak reacted immediately, his smile faltering, like he didn’t think Keith would attack him. Keith could imagine what he was thinking—Sendak had threatened him with Shiro’s life, so there was no way Keith would risk the chance of having Shiro get hurt, if Keith failed to win their fight.

It was strange, but not bad, necessarily, to fight with both his hands. He was used to blocking with one arm and holding his sword with the other, though he’d gotten quite adept at fighting with his dagger again in the past day and a half. Slashing with his hand was eerily fun. He swiped at Sendak’s arm, ripping skin and fur off, and was pleased to see how easily he tore through it.

The Galra trained against each other, but never fought each other. Their society demanded loyalty. Perhaps, Sendak had never truly fought against another Galra. Keith wasn’t a real Galra, but he wasn’t averse to using this fact to his advantage.

Shiro was saying something behind him. It fell on deaf ears—all he could hear was the pounding of his blood rushing through his body and the noise of Sendak’s shoes on the ground, moving in turn to Keith’s.

The blunt side of Sendak’s fist connected with his cheek, and fur rippled over Keith’s face. His chest heaved as he slid across the floor, back hitting the wall.

“You stupid, foolish child,” Sendak hissed. “Do you not realize how much easier it would be to give up? You will both be safe.”

Keith had heard promises from the Galra before. Concede, and we’ll allow you to live; leave, and we won’t take prisoners; relent, and we won’t murder this entire planet.

Sendak opened his mouth to say more, stopping when the entire ship rocked onto its side. Shiro grabbed onto the ridges of the walls so that he wouldn’t go flying, and Keith and Sendak both were thrown around. Alarms on the ship began to ring, flashing red lights jutting out from the ceiling.

“What was that?” Sendak yelled, head whipping towards the door. Keith took advantage of Sendak’s confusion by looping around him, jamming his dagger against the base of Sendak’s neck. Keith staggered and then threw one more punch, throwing all his weight into it, to the same spot.

Sendak crumpled to the ground, barely conscious, and his voice came out bloodied when he hissed, “We aren’t done here.” Sendak was more foolish than Keith thought if he expected Keith to let him live after this, and he loomed over Sendak, ripping his dagger out from his neck and pressing the blade to his throat.

The only thing that could stop him was Shiro—and he did, his voice cutting through the haze of Keith’s mind, causing his hands to still.

“My portable stopped working—but Lance said he’s here—”

Shiro froze. His whole face changed, from fear to shock. Keith rose from Sendak’s unconscious body, running to Shiro.

“What?” Keith asked.

“Listen,” Shiro said. “What is that?”

It was a roar. The same one was before. And now that it wasn’t muddled, he could tell it wasn’t Red. Her voice was lower, rougher. This one was light and clear, like the slow back and forth of the waves of the ocean.

And then a human voice, one that Keith had grown to love: “Woo-hoo! This is awesome!”

“Lance?” Keith muttered. He forced himself up to look out the window and was met with the most breathtaking sight he’d ever seen.

He wasn’t ashamed to admit he teared up a bit. It wasn’t Red, but seeing Blue, muddy and in all her glory, flying through space, made him want to cry. He hadn’t known if the lions were still intact at all. The sense of relief he had couldn’t compare to even the most thrilling escapes they’d made.

That had to be Lance flying, it had to be.

“Testing, testing,” Pidge said. “I can’t tell if they can hear me.”

“I think it’s hooked up.” That was Matt’s voice. “I don’t know how long it’ll hold.”

He had made it off the ship before it took off, then. Keith was impressed. He had thought Matt would simply sit there and wait for the others to find him, not run off by himself when he could barely walk. He was related to Pidge, Keith supposed. Fiery blood must run in their family.

“I dunno what’s going on in there, but hang on! We’re going to get you guys out! Head towards the docking station. It’s at the back of the ship, to the right!” Lance said. “Man, this is so cool! What does this button do?”

“Focus, Lance,” Pidge sighed. Keith could hear the smile in her voice. “Don’t touch that.”

Shiro held onto Keith’s cheek. It felt stranger than usual. His skin was more sensitive underneath where the fur appeared. It was like he could feel every line and speck of dirt and dust on Shiro’s palm.

“Are you okay?”

Keith blinked, losing sight of Blue as she flew overhead of the Galra ship.

“I’m fine,” Keith said. “It doesn’t hurt.” He helped Shiro to his feet once he was sure the ship was stabilized. He hoped the others would have the presence of mind not to shoot again while they were trying to walk.

Shiro nodded and put his arm around Keith’s shoulder. Keith held onto Shiro’s back, holding him up, and let his other hand hover over his legs in case he slipped.

They were covered in blood and Shiro looked ready to pass out at any minute. He knew Shiro could hang on for a little longer, but he didn’t know how long that was exactly.

“Come on,” Keith said. With his claws, he wouldn’t have to rely only on his dagger to fight any Galra they ran into.

“Can they all hear us?” Hunk asked.

“I don’t know which room they’re in right now, so we’re broadcasting to the entire ship. So, uh, watch your words,” Pidge said.

Shiro laughed. “At least they’re trying.”

A few Galra met them in the hall. Keith used one hand to slash at them, and in one case, set Shiro down to fight them off. If he wasn’t under a time restraint, he would’ve allowed himself to gloat for a bit over their dead bodies. The sirens in the ship were getting louder and louder, blocking out the mutterings of the others over the speakers.

It was easy to tell when they got to the docking station of the ship. It was larger than the other rooms they had passed through, and Keith could see the lines where the floor opened up to allow other ships in. He jammed the sensor by the door, hopefully for the last time, and dragged Shiro to the doors on the opposite side.

“What the hell is that?” Lance said.

Keith glanced behind him by instinct, expecting to see Sendak, but they were alone in the room. Shiro sucked in deeply, head lolling back, eyes flickering.

“Shiro?” Keith said, holding Shiro closer.

“I’m okay,” Shiro coughed.

Keith wanted to say no, you aren’t, but he didn’t want to stress Shiro out and make his condition worse. He set him down on the floor and searched for the button or level or whatever on the wall that would open the doors to the outside.

“They’re opening a—a wormhole? Is that what that is?” Hunk said.

“How would I know?” Pidge said. “It sure looks like one.”

“I guess some Galra lived,” Shiro murmured. “No wonder no one chased us. They were focusing on opening a wormhole. I have to hand it to them for being resilient.”

Keith ground his teeth together. There were a number of indents on the wall that could be buttons. He didn’t know which one to press, so he pressed the one closest to him and hoped it would be the right one.

“Wait, I’ve seen something like this before—on the day we crashed—I thought I had hallucinated it while I was falling,” Lance mumbled, seemingly to himself.

The doors flung open and Blue crashed into the airlock, making the floor rock. Keith steadied himself and made his way back over to Shiro.

“The doors are open,” Matt said. His voice blinked in and out from the speakers. The connection was cutting.

There was a massive force, more than just the pressure from the doors having opened, pulling Keith back. Shiro reached for him and Keith took his hand, only managing to get him upright by steeling his side against the wall.

“That’s rough,” Shiro said light-heartedly. Keith smiled at him.

“Hold onto me.”

They walked back towards the door to the airlock. Blue flew in circles, no doubt trying to get away from the tug of the wormhole. Her mouth opened and Lance stepped out onto the edge of her floors.

“Shiro can’t stand up,” Keith yelled. He positioned Shiro at the edge of the Galra ship. “Walk over here!”

“What?! How?!” Lance yelped. There was still the entire length of Blue’s mouth between them.

“Walk on Blue’s jaw! She won’t let you fall out.”

Lance tip-toed closer and closer, following Keith’s instructions. Blue’s legs grappled at the air, keeping her upright. She moved closer until her nose touched the edge of the Galra ship. There were only a foot or so in between Shiro’s feet and Blue.

“Okay,” Lance breathed once he reached the edge. “I can take him.”

Keith passed Shiro off to Lance, and he saw how Lance struggled to hold him up. “Can you make it back?”

“Yeah,” Lance said. “Can you walk, Shiro?”

“Only—only a little.”

“Don’t fly away,” Lance said to Keith, and then headed back towards Blue’s mouth. Keith gripped the frame of the doors; he wasn’t worried they’d close, but more that he would end up being pulled away. Blue’s mouth snapped shut when Lance got close enough. The atmosphere around Keith thickened. His fur rippled. If he let go of the frame at all, he knew he would go flying into space.

Blue whined in his head. It wasn’t a purr, but it was something close to it, to soothe him. He felt like a fool for mistaking her for Red now. It’d been too long since he’d heard either of them; he just hadn’t considered the fact Blue would want to communicate with him.

“Lance is coming back out now,” Pidge said. “Hurry.”

Blue’s mouth opened again. The force jerked the Galra ship backwards and Keith choked, pressing his hands so hard to the frame of the door that his claws raked into the metal.

Lance teetered on Blue’s jaw. He walked as fast as he could without falling into space. His legs were quivering a mile a minute, and Keith understood how scared he had to be. Keith was still scared of falling into space after all this years. Even more so, since he’d died and woken up here.

“Keith,” Lance said in awe when he reached the edge, getting his first good look at Keith since the doors opened.

Keith didn’t need a mirror to know how he looked. Blotches of purple fur covered his body, his eyes were bloodshot, and Lance’s precious jacket was in pieces. Suddenly, all the shame that had overwhelmed him last week came back.

Lance wasn’t necessarily pure. He’d gone through enough in the past two months to age him by dozens of years. But he was precious to Keith, and Keith wanted to shield him from this. Lance shouldn’t have to see him like this, blood-crazed and monstrous.

There was more than a few feet in between them now, as the Galra ship inched closer and closer to the wormhole.

“I’ll catch you,” Lance said softly. He held out his hand. The wind from the Galra ship’s engines hit him, making his sleeve flap around. “I promise.”

“I can’t jump that far,” Keith said.

Lance smiled at him, waving his hand in the air. If Keith tried to grab Lance’s hand, he would be swept away by either the wind of the engines or the wormhole that was growing behind them.

“Do you trust me?”

“Yes,” Keith responded immediately.

“I trust you too.” Lance didn’t tear his eyes away from him, even as Pidge urged them to hurry up in the background. The fur on Keith’s back prickled as more and more air began to tug him backwards. “Trust is a two-way street, right? I promise I’ll catch you. I promise. Just like you would promise me.”

Keith forgot how to breathe for a moment. Lance’s hand was directly in front of him, and slowly, he reached out, trying to catch his fingers.

“I promise, Keith,” Lance continued. “I won’t lose you again. But you have to jump.”

Lance’s hand was beginning to freeze from being exposed to the cold air of space. It had to hurt. Keith knew how awful it felt to be exposed to a mass where there was absolutely nothing but the feeling of ice. He didn’t falter, though; instead, he reached out further, trying to meet Keith’s hand.

“Okay.” Keith swallowed. “I trust you.”

The Galra ship disappeared behind him as he propelled himself into space, towards Blue, towards his friends, towards _Lance_ —

Space was suffocating, but it was familiar. The last thing he’d ever truly known was space, pressing down on him in all directions. He couldn’t keep his eyes open for more than a few moments, and it felt serene, in a way, to black out in the same way he had before, weeks ago now.

Blue was here. The others were okay. Lance was happy. Shiro was safe.

Blue had been the first lion they’d had contact with. It was like history was repeating itself. Keith felt proud, in a way. They were set up to do great things now. The Galra may be more powerful and knowledgeable in this universe, but they would never be a match for them as a team.

Keith was fine with suffocating as long as it promised a good future. That’s what he had wanted originally. And besides: he knew Lance would catch him.

“I have you,” Lance said. His fingers brushed Keith’s. He could barely feel anything, even when Lance’s hands finally got purchase on his, reeling him into Blue’s warm interior. “We have you. Fuck, he’s so cold. He’s shaking. Someone get a blanket—hey, Keith. I love you, don’t pass out, okay? You can do that for me, right? Come on, Keith, hold on for me… I found Blue, we can make it... I caught you, I told you I would, I promised... Stay awake for me, Keith, come on...”

Keith breathed, and then he felt nothing.

*****

“Lance. What did you do?”

A deep, gentle voice, tinged with worry that made Keith’s heart beat faster. Shiro.

“I didn’t do anything, I—we were trying to—he asked me to—I—Oh god, why won’t he move? Keith, please—”

High, scared, full of concern that was bursting at the seams. Lance.

Arms curled around him, holding to a warm chest. “Keith, please,” Lance choked. “I’m sorry, I—”

“Paladins—” A girl’s voice. Regal, careful. Allura. “Step aside.”

“No, no, no, no,” Lance whispered. “No, no, no—”

“He’s having trouble breathing.” This one was the opposite of the other girl’s: unrestrained, brash. Pidge. “He needs to get into a healing pod.”

“Why won’t he breathe? I didn’t—I didn’t do anything, I swear, he—we had to try—”

Keith’s body was being tugged in all different directions.

“Lance, let go.” Another boy’s voice, softer. Hunk.

“I can’t—”

The arms around him tightened. Someone’s lips brushed over the top of his head. Tears wet his hair.

Keith tried to open his eyes. He had to tell them he was okay. He was alive. He was safe. No matter how hard he tried, neither his eyes or mouth would open.

“You can carry him there, but we need to get him in now.” A firm accent. Coran.

“I’m sorry,” Lance sobbed, and then Keith was being lifted into the air.

Why was Lance crying? What happened? He tried to think of what he last remembered—jumping into space, being caught by Lance in Blue—had they found Allura and Coran while he was unconscious?

They thought he was dying. He was thinking, though, so he had to be breathing. He tried once more to open his mouth, forcing every inch of strength he had.

“Lance,” he whispered.

“Wh—” His body stopped moving. “He spoke, he said something—he said—he said my name, just now—”

“What?” Pidge said. A small hand pressed to Keith’s forehead.

“Keith, can you hear us?” Allura asked.

Once he got past the initial block, it was easier to speak. “Lance,” he murmured. Lance sobbed again, crying louder. His lips formed the words don’t cry, but he couldn’t get the air out of his throat to say it properly.

“He’s breathing again,” Allura said. “He still needs to get into a healing pod. This doesn’t mean he’s in the clear.”

“He’s alive,” Lance said. Keith’s body began to move once more, faster. He had to be in Lance’s arms. His running was frenzied and uncertain.

“Was he acting out?” Shiro asked. Keith wanted to frown. Shiro had never said that about him before.

“No, it wasn’t—it was him. It wasn’t the Galra,” Lance replied.

The doors buzzed open. Another pair of hands held onto Keith’s back, holding him upright. Lance’s arms released him and then his back was pressed to a plush surface.

The cover of the healing pod shut. Keith’s attempt at speech was blocked, so he refocused his efforts into opening his eyes, instead.

Lance’s hands were pressed to the screen. He and Allura were yelling at each other, voices garbled by the pod. Keith couldn’t make out what they were saying. He blinked a few times, centering his vision.

Behind Lance was Shiro. He was angry. He grabbed Lance’s shoulder, turning him, and Keith saw it—the metal of his arm, gleaming purple.

Lance ripped away from him, facing Keith again. A mess of tears ran down his swollen cheeks. When his eyes, red and blue, met Keith’s, he yelled something. He must’ve realized Keith was relatively conscious.

There was a scar on his temple. He’d gotten it from fighting the Galra a few months ago. Keith remembered because Lance complained for days about his handsome face being ruined.

Allura placed her hand on Lance’s shoulder. Her expression and actions softened, coaxing his shoulders to fall.

The healing pods. Shiro’s arms. Lance’s scar. Allura. Coran.

This was their castle ship.

His home. He was home.

His first thought was _is Lance okay_?

But he knew the answer. He didn’t even have to think about it too hard. Lance was with Blue and their friends. All of them would be okay; they had each other.

Lance, the one in front of him, pressed his arms to the screen of the healing pod and cried from relief.

Keith’s whole world darkened, and the last thing he saw, again, was Lance.

He wasn’t too afraid. As long as Lance and the others were safe, he knew he would be too.

******

The time between when Keith had been ejected from Red and when he woke up in the other world had felt like barely a second.

The time between when he sunk into the healing pod and when he woke up beside Lance felt like years.

“Hey,” Keith croaked.

Lance lifted his head from his arms and gasped. “Keith—?”

His hair was all messy and greasy, like he hadn’t washed it in days. There were massive dark circles under his eyes, and his usually bright skin looked sunken and pale. But the smile that overtook his face made him look beautiful.

“I had the weirdest dream,” Keith joked tentatively.

Lance laughed loudly and pulled Keith into a hug. A shimmer of water ran through his eyes before he shut them, tucking his face against Keith’s shoulder. Keith’s arms protested as he raised them, stiff from injury, but he fought through it to hug Lance back.

“Me too,” Lance said, sniffling. “Me too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so... yup. that's it, folks! 
> 
> well, not really. there's still the epilogue. and then to answer a question that's been asked at like 100 times now: yes, there will be a "sequel", and it will be from paladin!lance's pov. 
> 
> i'm going to be working on another big project i've had planned for a few months now, a life is strange-based au, so the sequel to this fic probably won't come until i'm finished that. it'll definitely get written eventually!
> 
> i hope that for everyone who's been reading, and is reading, that this fic leaves on a good note in your head. 
> 
> i'm going to try and reply to all the comments on this chapter--please let me know what you think, of just this part and of the fic as a whole. i'm so, so grateful for the amount of attention and love this fic has gotten. i don't know if it's deserving, but thank you everyone for reading. no matter if you've been reading since chapter 1 or just started yesterday, or if you're reading this author's note 1 year after this chapter has been posted, i appreciate it so much that you've read this far. feel free to message me to chat or ask questions as well! :D
> 
> the epilogue will be up sometime....... soonish.
> 
> talk to me on [tumblr](http://koizumi.tumblr.com) and [twitter](http://twitter.com/tsukaleoluvr69)!


	25. Epilogue

_04:13, September 21, 21XX._ Two hours until he had to get out of bed.

“Hey,” Lance called, fingers grazing over Keith’s arm, as if he wasn’t sure whether to shake him to his senses or not. “Are you awake?”

Keith dropped his portable, then rolled over to face Lance. “Yeah,” he said. “I couldn’t sleep.”

Lance stared back at him, uncharacteristically silent for a moment, and then brought Keith closer by tugging on his wrist. “Why didn’t you say something?”

Keith snorted a little—why would he? What was there that he could say? “I didn’t want to wake you,” he answered. It wasn’t completely a lie. Lance’s tiredness was evident to anyone who even remotely knew him; the bags under his eyes were massive, the lines in his forehead etched a little too deep for Keith’s liking. He didn’t want to take away any moment of rest for him.

Squinting, Lance pressed his nose to Keith’s hair. “You’re a shit liar,” he mumbled. His breath fluttered over Keith’s ear and his body grew a fraction warmer from their closeness.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “I really didn’t want to wake you, though.”

“I don’t care,” Lance said. “I don’t care if you wake me up. I’d rather stay up and talk then waste time sleeping.”

Keith laughed and tangled his fingers into Lance’s hair, pulling him back so he could look at his face. He loved that face—that stupid, bumbling face, split open by a wry smile. He loved Lance’s face so goddamn much that the idea of losing it made him want to throw up. He had to dig his fingers into the back of Lance’s head to keep his thoughts on track, lest he actually end up running to the bathroom.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Lance asked, ever-helpful. His kindness made Keith’s heart twist. He swallowed, allowing Lance’s eyes to roam over him, searching to see if Keith was about to lie through his teeth.

“Maybe later,” he said.

Lance sighed, but let it be. “‘Kay.” He reached back and placed his hand over Keith’s, the one that was tangled in his hair, entwining their fingers until Keith could feel the warmth underneath Lance’s skin. “I love you.”

Keith brought Lance’s palm to his cheek, then nuzzled it, just to give himself time to muster a reply. He loved Lance more than he could put into words. More than he could describe. And he knew, despite Lance’s insistence, that he didn’t know how far it extended—he didn’t know that the very _sight_ of him made Keith’s knees weak.

“I love you too,” he said.

Lance hummed, satisfied, and laid back down on the bed. He threw his legs over Keith’s, tangling both them and the sheets together. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” he said.

He could feel Lance staring at his cheek, and then another sigh as he shut his eyes and buried his nose into Keith’s shoulder. “I think we’re going to touch down on another planet tomorrow.”

“You think?” Keith shifted, only slightly, so that he could see Lance out of peripherals. Even just seeing the way his eyelashes fluttered against Keith’s shoulder made his heart beat faster.

“Haven’t you noticed that we’ve been speeding up?”

No, he hadn’t; he hadn’t had to think about that before, and without being at the helm of the ship, he couldn’t tell how fast they were going. Space was empty, as far as he was concerned. He couldn’t tell up from down when staring out the windows. “No. How did you?”

“Uh,” Lance laughed. “Pidge pointed it out.”

Keith laughed as well, shaking his head slightly. “You would never figure that out on your own.”

“Hey,” Lance pinched his side, over his shirt. “I resent the implications of that.”

“I’d be insulting myself, too, if I was insulting you. I didn’t realize either.” Keith rolled his eyes. “Will you be ready? It’ll be our first mission on proper ground.”

“Of course. I’ve been training every chance I get. I think I’ve got this ‘fighting robots’ thing down to a science, so the real guys won’t stand a chance.” He made a gun with his fingers and pretended to shoot the wall. “Will you be?”

“Yeah, I mean,” Keith coughed, “it doesn’t seem to be much different than—you know, in the other world,” he ended awkwardly.

Truthfully, he’d been training a little too much. Shiro had pulled him aside more than once to scold him for it—which was quite frankly hilarious, considering Shiro spent just as much time busying himself rather than facing his problems—and he already knew that Lance despised him staying up and slicing simulations open instead of cuddling with him in bed.

It wasn’t that he needed to train. Beating the robots was effortless for him. Their patterns, while unpredictable, were stiff. They weren’t nearly as large as the real Galra, and dodging them was easy. Jump back, slice, repeat. That’s all it took. It was simply easier to clear his mind while fighting. He didn’t have to think, and that was a blessing.

“Oh.” Lance said back, just as awkwardly. “I never asked if it was the—the same weapon, and stuff.”

“It was the same.” He wasn’t sure what that said about him. Him and the other Keith. Whether they were the same or different. He didn’t want to think about that. “But I prefer being here.”

“I prefer you being here too.” Lance tilted Keith’s face towards him and kissed him lightly. “Trust me.”

“I do,” Keith answered, though he knew Lance’s statement had been redundant. He huffed softly and shut his eyes. “Do you ever—”

He licked his lips, stilling, and waited for Lance to settle back onto the bed.

“Do I ever?” Lance repeated.

“Nothing,” he said hurriedly, turning his head away.

“Do I ever what?”

Keith groaned. Stupid, he thought. He shouldn’t have said anything. He almost wished Lance didn’t care so damn much, so that he wouldn’t prod Keith at all the right times. Except not really—he didn’t know what he’d do without Lance there to make up for his faults.

“Do you ever miss him?” Keith said, the words tumbling out all at once.

He opened his eyes to watch Lance’s expression shift, from worry to surprise.

“I—” Lance propped himself up with his arm, not breaking eye contact with Keith. He wondered how he looked in Lance’s view. Greasy, tired, asking invasive questions that didn’t have any good answers. “Sometimes,” he admitted. “But not because I—it was like—it was like falling in love again, you know?”

“Ah,” Keith said.

“I got to see you fall for me again, like it was the first time,” Lance said, then laughed. It sounded strained, not unlike the laughter he made when crying. “So… it’s selfish, I guess. But—but yes. Do you—?”

Keith pursed his lips and thought hard.

It was a loaded question, because it was so different from his to Lance’s.

He thought of dancing through the ship, stepping on Lance’s toes and tripping over ridges he didn’t know existed in the floor. He thought of sitting in the room made entirely of windows, both freaked out and amazed by the stars that twinkled in every direction. He thought of Lance’s arms around his waist, fixing his battle position. He thought of his back pressed to Lance’s as they fought through the Galra together.

He didn’t regret it, but he was fine with how things had progressed. He’d gone by chance and left by choice; anything that he could have there, he could have here, and better.

“No. I’d rather be here,” he said firmly.

“Sorry,” Lance mumbled, throwing himself over Keith and pressing his face to his chest. “I love you. A lot. So much.”

“I know,” Keith said. “I get it. Why are you sorry?”

“I don’t know. I—I don’t know. I don’t want you to think that it means I love you any less. We just went through a lot together. I hope that they’re happy, at least.”

Keith shoved his hands under Lance’s face and grabbed him, curling his arms over Lance’s back until their faces were so close that he could taste the air coming from Lance’s mouth.

“I’m sure they are,” he said. “Besides, we’re happy and back together. That’s what matters.”

“But—”

“We can’t do anything about it.” He kissed Lance. “It’s like—I think of it like most relationships. You had a nice time and then it’s over. It doesn’t mean that—that they don’t matter to you. The memories are still there even if they aren’t. And then you move on.”

“You make it sound easy,” Lance whispered, and Keith’s grasp on him tightened.

“It’s not,” he admitted.

“You make it sound like it wasn’t quite possibly the most fucked up situation imaginable.”

Keith chuckled. “It is. God, I know it is. You have no idea how angry at the universe I was when I woke up there and realized I wasn’t here.”

Lance flicked one of the ears on top of Keith’s head. The action was so ridiculously inappropriate for the mood between them that he ended up snorting, shoving Lance off of him and promptly throwing a pillow at his face.

“Ticklish?” Lance teased, grinning.

“You know I am,” Keith said. His face was red from both laughter and embarrassment. It felt nice, strangely.

“I miss him, but I love you,” Lance said, holding the pillow to his chest. “In a way, being with him made me love you even more. Now I’m never letting you out of my sight again.”

“I think I’m the one who’s supposed to be saying that.”

Lance rolled his eyes and grabbed the front of Keith’s nightshirt. “I wouldn’t trade you for the world.”

“I know.”

“Why do you sound so smug about that?”

Keith smiled. “Tell me you love me again.”

“I love you,” Lance said, covering Keith’s cheeks with his palms. “I’m glad you didn’t die.”

“What kind of a person says that to their boyfriend after they’ve had multiple near-death experiences?” Keith scoffed. “You have no tact.”

“Like you do?” Lance shot back.

The brush of his thumb underneath Keith’s eye was so gentle compared to their banter that it sent shivers up Keith’s spine. “Kiss me?” he asked.

“Why are you even asking?”

Keith let Lance press him into the bed until they were both breathless and seeing stars.

He thought of being thrown out of his ship and waking up in another world. He thought of weeks spent wondering if he would ever get to hug Lance again. He thought of how horribly empty he’d felt at the thought of never being without him.

“Stop thinking so much,” Lance whispered, nipping at Keith’s lower lip until it was red. “I don’t want to think anymore.”

He thought of the way Lance kissed him now—soft, slow, like their time together meant the world.

“Make me,” Keith taunted, already snickering.

The grin Lance gave him was wicked. “You asked for it,” he said, raising his hands. Before Keith could move away, they were on his sides, tickling him.

Keith was pretty sure the whole ship could hear his laughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (27/11/2017)
> 
> Hey everyone. Whether you finished this fic for the first time or are re-reading it, I just want to say thank you! I wrote this during my last year of high school and it was definitely an experience for me, lol. This was the first fic I ever wrote with over 20k words, and the first chaptered fic I ever finished in my decade of writing. I know there were parts that could be improved on and all - but after reflecting on this fic for the past year, I'm pretty proud of it.
> 
> Most of all, I hope you enjoyed it, and please comment with whatever you thought! I still read the comments, even now that I don't write anymore.
> 
> \-- Yes, I don't really write anymore. If I do, it's extremely sporadic (like once every few months.) As people who have read the previous author's note will know, this means the planned sequel for this fic will likely never happen, especially since I'm not really into VLD anymore. I do plan to write up the general outline that I had for the sequel though, and when I do, I'll put it in this author's note. :)
> 
> I don't have a tumblr anymore, but you can still find me on [twitter!](http://twitter.com/thebokkijeu)
> 
> Maybe one day I'll come back and edit this fic, but until then, thank you for reading!


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